Second Chance
by JohnlockedForever221B
Summary: Sherlock and John are on a case when a homicide in a passing flat changes their lives forever. Parentlock. Eventual Johnlock. Rated M for mentions of abuse, drugs, alcohol and slight language. Updated every Friday xox
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own BBC Sherlock. Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss are the creators.**

…

Chapter 1: Helpless

Running through the streets of London at night; rain lashing at your face and wind clawing at your body is a normal occurrence for the world's consulting detective and Doctor John Watson.

"John, go down Marylebone Street. I'll go down Wigmore Street. We should trap him."

John separates from his partner and as he is about to intercept the criminal a gunshot echoes.

_Sherlock_? John immediately panics. He can see the man running towards him but the threat of Sherlock being hurt makes him dither. Just as the man realises he's ran into a trap and slows John runs towards him and they start fighting. The criminal uppercuts John's jaw and goes for a blow on his ribs. John bends back and sweeps his foot tripping him up. As the man lies disorientated on the ground John kicks him onto his back and punches him across the temple knocking him unconscious. He cuffs him to a lamppost and stands back panting wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. He suddenly remembers about Sherlock and rushes to Marylebone Street.

Sherlock immediately crouches and presses himself against a wall when he hears gunfire. He looks up at a flat above him where the shot came from, the room illuminating as the bullet was fired. Silence restores until he hears whimpering next to him. _A stray dog? _He lifts up a garbage bag and finds a toddler underneath. _Child is about 12 months old. A boy. _Sherlock looks over the child; fear is etched onto his face, his bright blue eyes wide and watery, his brown, curly hair is tangled and dirty, and his clothes are torn and filthy from rarely if ever being washed. The boy moves further against the dumpster; pulling himself by his arms. He tries to push himself back with his legs but cries loudly in pain. _One of his legs is fractured and the other has a deep cut. Bruises cover most of his face and body suggesting abuse._ Sherlock bends down and goes to carefully pick him up but the boy flinches when Sherlock moves his hands towards him. _He's not very vocal. Told to keep quiet often._

"I'm not going to hurt you." Sherlock says softly. He slowly removes his coat and smiles faintly at the boy reassuring him. He wraps his coat around him. His hands brush the boy's skin and it is as cold as ice. He can see his body shivering and his lips are blue. He picks the child up making sure the Belstaff is enclosed around him and holds him in one arm against his chest. He walks slowly up stairs to the flat. _Nail indents in the wall. Group of hair on the stairs. Signs of a struggle. _He follows drops of blood on the rotting stairs until he reaches the door of the flat. Empty bottles of vodka and whisky litter the floor. He steps over broken glass and walks into the living room. One of the cushions on the sofa has a spring extruding from it. A chipped mug half filled with coffee sits on a table along with bags containing a white substance. _Cocaine_. He turns to the left and walks into the kitchen; unwashed dishes spill out of the sink, a few baby food jars growing mould lay scattered on a work top and a variety of drugs and money cover the table. He walks into the only bedroom; male clothes occupy the wardrobe and bed. A small pile of the female clothes are neatly folded in a corner along with two child onesies and a bag of nappies. He walks back into the living room and turns his head to his right. A woman is sprawled face down on the carpet, bruises covering her body also and distinct hand marks surround her throat. _Abused frequently like son. Strangled to death._ Next to her is a man. Sherlock bends down and looks over him. _Fingers stained yellow by nicotine. Clothes unchanged for at least 3 days. No personal hygiene. He has been a drug dealer 10 years and an alcoholic for 12 years. _He looks over the evidence and pieces the events. _The wife attempts to leave the flat. She knows she will not get far as she is too weak and fearing for the child's safety she tries to hide him behind the bins. The husband reaches her first and pulls her back causing the child to be flung, hitting the bins as he falls. The boy drags himself to safety. Pain must have been great but fear drove him on. The husband tows her upstairs by her hair and in a drunken rage strangles her. He immediately regrets what he has done so shoots himself._

John reaches the alley and calls out for Sherlock. Sherlock looks to the window, John's voice pulling him out of his thoughts and joins him outside. John sighs when he sees Sherlock is unharmed but looks puzzled as to why he is holding a child.

"Care to explain?"

"I'll tell you later."

John looks over the child and frowns.

"He needs medical attention immediately."

"Call Lestrade and an ambulance."

"Already on it."

Sherlock looks over the boy whose grimy face is not joyous like my toddlers, he is scared.

"What have they done to you?" He says more to himself than to the boy. Seeing this helpless being recoil from human touch makes his heart drop but it also makes him feel somehow protective of him, not wanting anyone to hurt his innocence again.

He thinks of ways to get him feeling safe, bringing up memories of what calmed him as a child. He cradles the child against his chest and holds him loosely as to not hurt him. He strokes his hair gently and the child slowly relaxes into his touch. Soon after, he is asleep in his arms from exhaustion and pain his hands entangled on Sherlock's collar and hair.

"There's been an accident so due to roads diversions the ambulance won't arrive for another 15 minutes. I should realign his leg."

"He's not under any anaesthetic; the pain will be too much."

"Sherlock, it's almost penetrating his flesh! The bones would have already started healing and if I don't he may not be able to walk for the rest of his life."

"Wait a minute." Sherlock runs into the flat and grabs a bottle of scotch. He wakes the boy and puts the bottle to his lips. He drinks from it thirstily. _Deprived of food and water._

Sherlock pulls the bottle away and almost immediately the toddler's grip loosens on him and his body becomes more tranquil. John stares at Sherlock.

"You have affection for him."

"Just do it." Sherlock replies ignoring John's previous statement and reluctantly hands the drowsy if not slightly drunk child to John.

"I'm so, so sorry." He whispers to the child as he rebreaks the tibia and realigns. The toddler inhales sharply and whimpers, gripping John's jacket tightly before loosening his grip and almost falling unconscious. Sherlock shudders and his brow furrows in worry. _He must have been use to quite a substantial amount of pain to not have screamed or have gone unconscious._ After that piece of information registers with his conscious he growls aloud, walking away from John and the boy and throws the scotch against the wall. He walks back to the child and holds his hand as John holds him against his body soothingly. The child looks up at Sherlock and then at John. He put his head back on John's shoulder and holds onto one of Sherlock's fingers until the ambulance arrives.

John gives his statement and directs as to where he cuffed the criminal whereas Sherlock sits against the dumpster staring vacantly at the wall. John excuses himself from the police and approaches Sherlock.

"Hey," Sherlock looks up at John, his eyes deprived all of emotion, "You ok?"

"Humanity."

"Huh?"

"That child has done nothing to deserve the way he's been treated. He's defenceless. I've seen murders, serial killings, rapists yet this…my own childhood was full of torment and I'm still mocked although it doesn't bother me as much now. I had Mycroft to help me bury my emotions and disconnect from everyone. He has no-one and suffering alone is something no-one should have to go through."

Sherlock's eyes are teary and he runs his hands through his hair then over his face. He stands up and starts walking down the alley away from the noise of voices and sirens. John walks behind him. When they are around a corner Sherlock turns around and hugs John. He doesn't cry. He just wants to be held. To know he's not alone anymore. John hugs him back tightly. He's not alone anymore either.

After a while they separate and join the police again. Sherlock holds onto John's jacket until there's a chance they'll be seen. He gives his statement first on where he found the criminal and what he was doing and then of the gunshot and finding the boy.

"I want to go home." Sherlock says to John his voice weary.

"Ok."

...

**A/N – Next chapter will be uploaded on Friday 18****th, ****a week's time. Check out my other Sherlock/Johnlock stories meanwhile. xox**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own BBC Sherlock. Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss are the creators.**

…

Chapter 2: Saviour

John makes his goodbyes to Lestrade and they head home. Baker Street is only a street away so they set off at a leisurely pace. Sherlock holds onto John's jacket again and then his hand. As they reach the flat Sherlock takes off his coat, scarf and shoes discarding them on the floor and waits until John has finished removing his too. He grabs John's hand again and takes him to his room. He doesn't bother to change his clothes but instead lays them both on the bed, him spooning John since he is taller and puts his arm across John. John takes his hand and settles down. Both are tired from the night's activities. All this is done in silence. No questions asked. No questions needed. All they need is each other's comfort.

The next day John wakes up remembering what happened only hours before. He turns around and see's Sherlock still asleep. He smiles pondering when the last time it was Sherlock had slept. He sits up rubbing his shoulder, the cold causing it to ache. Sherlock stirs slightly and marginally opens his eyes.

"Morning." John greets before standing up and stretching.

"Morning." Sherlock replies his voice thick with sleep. His eyes dilate as the memories of the night before return.

"I want to see him." Sherlock states.

"The boy?"

"Yes."

"Visiting hours is at 2pm till 8pm I think."

"We're going now."

When Sherlock is determined to do something he does it no matter what the consequences. John makes tea while Sherlock showers and changes and then they swap, Sherlock drinking the tea John made him while John showers and gets dressed. Before they leave John sends a text to Greg saying that they are going to see the toddler at the hospital now so he can call the hospital and they will be expecting them.

Sherlock heads to child intensive care unit. The child is in a room alone. Multiple needles and tubes cover his malnourished body. He opens the door slowly and walks up to him, looking him over. He picks up the board listing what is or was wrong with him:

_Name__: Unknown - called XY_

_Gender__: Male_

_Birthday__: June 13th__ 2013 (approximately)_

_Physical Trauma:_

_3rd rib splintered on right side_

_Fractured left leg_

_3" cut on right leg – glass shards removed from cut_

_Old and recent scars on neck, back and hands_

_Racing heartbeat_

_Startled easily_

_Insomnia – had to be sedated although he hadn't properly slept for months_

_Psychological Trauma:_

_Unknown – bring child to social groups to see how he responds_

_Other factors:_

_Fed breast milk occasionally_

_Hasn't had a wash for at least 12 months – had hair lice and is recovering from pityriasis rosea_

_Parents are deceased – will be taken by social services to an orphanage when leg heals_

Sherlock hands the board to John who when he finishes reading it whispers;

"Jesus."

Sherlock pulls up a chair next to the boy and just looks him over. _Washed twice. Hair brushed. Changed nappy. _John stands behind Sherlock and puts his hands on the chair. Sherlock leans forwards and puts his hands under his chin closing his eyes.

_His future will most likely be troublesome without parents or nurturing. He will resort to drugs and alcohol like his parents to drown his sorrows and memories. He will reject friends, not trusting anyone. He will be bullied for having no friends but will respond violently most likely being expelled from at least 4 no 6 schools through his adolescence. All of this will make him an unwanted candidate for adoption. If he stays alone by the time he's 20 he will most likely commit suicide._

Sherlock opens his eyes and leans back in the chair.

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"I would appreciate it if you don't make a snide remark but I want to adopt this child." John looks down at Sherlock shocked. _He obviously cares for the boy. We have enough money to afford a few child necessities but we know nothing of raising a child._

"Ok." Sherlock turns his head and looks at John, assessing whether his response is genuine. He smiles and turns back facing the child.

"Do you know his name?" John asks.

"No."

"Do you want to name him?

Sherlock thinks about his and John's names since they will be sharing custody of the child.

"Hamish William Watson-Holmes."

"Hamish? You know I hate my middle name."

"Maybe you'll like it now." Sherlock replies smirking.

"You are such a prick sometimes." Sherlock looks up at John and they both laugh, "Fine. Fine Hamish William Watson-Holmes it is."

After he says this his face goes pale.

"Oh God. People are going to think we're married or are a couple or something."

"We can deal with people later. Right now our priority is him."

"I guess you're right." Another question enters his mind so he asks, "What makes you sure that we can look after him?"

"You suffered from PTSD after Afghanistan meaning that you can help him if any symptoms arise. You are also a doctor so that obviously helps. Me; well I have no idea how to care or look after a child but I want to know he's safe and we can provide that."

John nods smiling at his logic. Doctors come in saying that they are going to change his bandages and that it's best they leave. They say that they will call them when he can be discharged which we be in approximately 6 weeks. Before they leave Sherlock goes to the morgue where Molly is currently dissecting a lung.

"Oh Sherlock, hi." Sherlock skips the trivial meet-and-greet and immediately asks,

"On child intensive care unit room 12 there is a young boy. He is 18 months old, brown, curly hair, blue eyes, one leg is in plaster and he is covered in bruises and pityriasis rosea. I need you to keep an eye on him."

Molly takes in the information dazed and worried at the description of the boy. She looks to John with questioning look on her face.

"I'll text you later."

Molly nods then frowns, "I rarely go into the main part of the hospital. Someone may question me as to why I'm there and if it's just to look at people then I may be reported as not doing my job. Especially Maureen she never liked me." Sherlock takes a step closer to Molly and looks down at her.

"Please." That single word coming from Sherlock Holmes was like an electric shock. It means he needs help or is worried.

"Ok," Molly replies, "I can check after my shift."

"Thank you. Oh and I'll deal with Maureen." With that Sherlock leaves the morgue. John gives Molly a quick hug and catches up with Sherlock. Before they leave Sherlock approaches Maureen at the front desk; he brings up how she left her husband at the altar, how she stole from her mother when she was 17 and that at the rate she's putting on weight she will become obese in 2 months. They exit the hospital leaving the confused middle-aged women in tears.

As they walk back home to baker street John asks,

"Well that was…interesting."

"I presumes you're talking about Maureen. She will now leave to go home asking someone to cover her being to humiliated to finished her shift. Molly can now check on Hamish."

John's first thought is _genius _but he just shakes his head in disdain at the whole event.

"What do you want to do now?"

"I'm not sure. I'm too unfocused to take on a case but you know if I'm left doing nothing I'll create hell."

John nods, he's not ready for a Sherlock tantrum right now.

"We could look into Hamish's family. The police should have identified his parents by now."

Sherlock stops walking and looks at John surprised.

"Brilliant."

…

Instead of walking home they hail a cab and head to Scotland Yard. Sherlock walks in passing the front desk and heads straight to Lestrade's office. No-one tries to stop him. It's a normal occurrence. The receptionist greets John and he smiles at her warmly. Sherlock catches the transaction in the corner of his eye and waits until they are further away so she won't hear him.

"She's in a relationship; there is an engagement ring on her finger and the bouquet of flowers on her desk has a card in it suggesting admirer or most likely her fiancée. Plus we're adopting a baby together, I'm sure she'd understand that."

"Someone's jealous." John smirks and Sherlock glares at him briefly.

As they reach Greg's office, they meet Sally leaving it.

"Freak. John." Sherlock bashes past her and John briefly smiles as he follows.

"Sherlock. I was expecting you sooner or later."

"Then you know what I want." John elbows Sherlock and he sighs, "Would like."

"Everything's in these files."

"Thanks."

They turn to leave but Lestrade asks quickly.

"How is he? The boy." Sherlock's expression flickers to one of concern and hurt but he quickly reapplies his mask. Only John catches the slight change in expression.

"He's recovering well. He should have died at least 6 months ago from his numerous injuries at home yet he survived them all. They are going to contact us when he's recovered further."

Lestrade nods and gives John a look saying fill-me-in-later as he's never known Sherlock to care or admire anyone except himself and John. They turn to leave with the cases, hailing a cab and head home.

When they get in the remove their coats, Sherlock additionally taking off his scarf and sit on the couch looking over the files.

_Male victim__: Anthony Lane_

_Female victim__: Susanne Lane_

_Status__: Married for 4 years (in a Las Vegas Casino 2010)_

_Jobs and Finance__: Anthony was a bodyguard. He was caught having sex with customers in the toilets or behind the nightclub 3 times. He also got drunk on the job letting minors into the club so he was fired._

_Susanne was a primary school teacher teaching 5 year olds for 7 years. She quit her job to stay at home with the child as Anthony never looked after him._

_Neither have jobs so there was no legal source of income. Their bank accounts show that Anthony spends the majority of their money on alcohol. Ms. Wilson (see below) reported that when Anthony sold drugs they received averagely £1200. Susanne would be given £150 maximum to buy food for them and clothes for her and the baby._

_Family__: Anthony has no known living family. After Susanne married Anthony her family and other relatives disinherited her. They haven't contacted her for 3 years. They don't know about the baby._

_Other__: Hamish was never registered suggesting home birth._

_Neighbours reported that he would crawl about, cutting his hands and feet on smashed beer bottles and that he wasn't fed for 3 days when Susanne was on a teaching course in Manchester._

_Ms. Wilson, neighbour, states that when Anthony passed out, she and other neighbours would check on Hamish dreading he would be dead. They couldn't help him much as they feared Anthony knowing he had a gun but they would give him slices of bread, a spoonful of baked beans or soup since he couldn't eat many solids.)_

John closes the case once they have finished reading and places it on the table.

"What's going to happen to them?" John asks Sherlock.

"They're still being analysed at the moment but they will be cremated."

"Can we hold a funeral for Susanne? Yes she agreed to marry the man but she, for some mysterious reason, stuck with him, had a child with him and kept herself and Hamish alive. She deserves some respect for what she's done."

Sherlock sits silently and thinks about it.

"We just bury her. No service, we only register her as deceased."

"That's all I ask."

"Ok."

"Thank you." John sighs and hugs Sherlock. Sherlock freezes and John quickly let's go embarrassed. He gets up to leave but Sherlock grabs his hands and sits him down again. He moves closer to John and tentatively hugs him back. John responds almost immediately and they just stay there like the night down the alley, just enjoying each others touch. They disembrace, say their goodnights and go to their rooms not embarrassed anymore but composed and serene.

...

**A/N – Next chapter will be uploaded on Friday 25****th, ****a week's time. Thanks for reviews, favourites and follows :) xox**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own BBC Sherlock. Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss are the creators.**

…

Chapter 3: Settling in

Six weeks later Hamish is fit enough to be released from hospital. The hospital hand over the clothes Hamish arrived in to D. and asks him whether they will keep the child since he is part of a case.

"I know some people who would like to adopt this child as soon as possible."

"On Wednesday, FosterCare UK are coming in to look over XY, fill in some forms and then place him in foster care. He should be adopted within the first month of being in care since he is so young. Do the people you say would like to adopt XY have adoption forms, have ben DBS checked and have a reference saying that they can take care of a child." Lestrade quickly raises his hands holding all of the above.

The doctor flicks through it making sure all is in order.

"So you two want to adopt this child?"

"Yes."

"Are you…involved? Together?"

"Erm no…no." John splutters going red and Sherlock rolls his eyes at John always defending his 'not gay' label.

"We are close friends and flatmates. We are the people that bought Hami - the boy in."

"Ok. That makes sense. Seeing a vulnerable child usually creates a strong bond immediately."

They nod.

"The detective showed me your files. You are suitable to look after the child. Now I know that we are no adoption agency but we have talked to one. We showed them your credentials too and they agree that you can take XY from the hospital without him going to an orphanage first."

John smiles and Sherlock visibly relaxes and he smiles slightly too.

"When can we take him?" Sherlock asks.

"Now if you're ready. You just need to sign his discharge forms." Sherlock signs the forms and the doctor takes him to leave.

They reach Hamish's room and he is wide awake and in an onesie. He looks much better than he was 6 weeks ago. He bruises and cuts have healed, his skin is clearer and he looks happy. When they walk in the room the doctor quickly stands in front of them,

"Given his history we advise you approach him slowly and do not make any loud sounds that will startle him."

They both nod and walk slowly to Hamish. The boy looks up at them vacantly and then he stretches his hand out to Sherlock holding his finger like when he was on the alley. He then let's go and stretches both his arms up to John to pick him up. John looks to the doctor and the doctor nods. John picks him up and Hamish puts his arms around him familiarly.

"He's responding really well to both your presences. There should be little problems in him settling in.

John sets Hamish back in his crib so he can see them further. He gurgles happily and stretches his arms again.

Sherlock picks him up awkwardly at first and then settles him against his chest.

"What are you going to call him?"

"Hamish William Watson-Holmes. May we leave now?" Sherlock asks before some nosy nurse wants to know the origin of the names.

"How are you getting back to your apartment?"

John pulls Sherlock aside.

"We're going to have to walk home." John states.

"Why?" Sherlock asks.

"We need a child car seat in order for him to be safe in a vehicle. We have nothing to keep him safe if we got a taxi."

"If we carried him home as he is he will be cold."

John looks to the doctors.

"Can we have a blanket?"

"Of course."

They walk back over John wraps Hamish in the blanket perfectly, like a burrito and Sherlock gives him a quizzical look.

"When I got back from Afghanistan I stayed with my family for a while. My mum's sisters would come across with her new born and I would help tuck her in."

Sherlock removes his scarf, opening it out and makes a baby sling from it. John looks at him curiously this time.

"I've been…er researching how to look after a child." John smiles broadly, proud.

"Oh do stop smiling John." Sherlock scowls then they both smirk at the ridiculousness of their quarrelling.

They put Hamish in the baby sling they walk home in the calm night breeze. When they arrive back (at (9:30pm), Hamish is asleep and both men are tired. Sherlock takes Hamish out of his scarf and hands him to John so he can take of his coat and scarf then John hands Hamish back so he can take off his jacket.

"Where should he sleep?" Sherlock whispers.

"Er, your room? Your bed is bigger than mine."

Sherlock looks at the child asleep and smiles.

"Well night." John says and turns to leave for his room.

"Oh, er, John?"

"Yeah?"

"If he…can you…you can come in here whenever you want." Sherlock states awkwardly.

"Thanks." John replies smiling and continues walking to his room. _He's really nervous, it's kind of cute. _John stops walking and flushes red and checks he's alone. He continues walking. _What is wrong with me? Anyway I'll check on them when I wake._

…

6:00am

Sherlock wakes up suddenly when he feels he's suffocating and sits up fast. As he gasps for breathe he looks about for the intruder and then looks to his lap where a young boy lays on his back from the sudden movement then rolls over to look at Sherlock. John pokes his head around Sherlock's door and sees Sherlock panting, he steps in quickly.

"Are you ok?"

"I…I'm fine. It seems Hamish has been awake and was I guess touching my face. He was holding my nose, I couldn't breathe. As I sat up quickly he fell down. We're both fine."

John looks at Hamish who upon seeing both men gurgles happily unknowing that he almost killed one of his fathers.

"I wonder how much sleep he got." John wonders.

Sherlock looks at the boy

"I would say at least 9 hours since he doesn't seem tired."

"I suppose it's one of the best night's sleep he's had in a long time."

"Hmm." Sherlock agrees.

"So, what shall we do today?"

"We usually watch TV on Saturdays and order takeaway but –."

"The doctor said no loud noises and it's bad if we feed him Chinese.'"

"I was getting to that before you interrupted me. I suggest you take care of him while I order stuff for Hamish."

"What are you going to use? Your laptop is currently covered in acid from the case with the hacker and how are you going to pay?"

"I will use your laptop like usual –"

"I changed my password."

"I'll still use it, you should really stop changing it there's no point and you take the money I don't from clients so I will pay using your bank details."

"You know my pin?"

"Of course."

John looks at Sherlock in annoyance but he's not shocked. They look across the bed, remembering that there is another life in the room and see Hamish crawling to the edge of the bed. Sherlock sighs and pulls his duvet up pulling Hamish up too.

"Well I'm getting a shower; a cup of tea would be nice." Sherlock asks not phased that their newly adopted baby almost fell of the bed.

John rolls his eyes, picks up Hamish and heads to the living room. He quickly surveys the place to make sure it's as baby safe as it can be; he removes a knife, the skull and a collection of headless nun photos littering the table. He goes to sit Hamish down on a blanket but he doesn't let go so he takes him with him to the kitchen where he makes his and Sherlock's tea. He remembers they have plastic cups from when Sherlock had a phase of melting things so he fills one with milk and sits them on the sofa where the rest of the morning flies by.

2:00pm

Sherlock groans loudly and slams the laptop lid shut.

"Oi! You've already broken your laptop I still want mine in one piece!" John shouts.

Sherlock goes to collapse on the sofa but Hamish is there. He picks him then collapses dramatically on the sofa and John can't help but think it's adorable.

"Bored."

"You've only been looking for a few hours."

"There's so many different products and a; have different uses or functions or little unnecessary features. Can't we just give him to my parents until he's 20?"

"Sherlock. You wanted to adopt him and we have. Persevere."

"Ok well don't complain –"

Just as Sherlock begins another rant his phone rings. He heads to it hoping it's Lestrade with a case but it's his mum.

"What do you want?"

"Sherlock that's no way to speak to your mother."

"Sorry." he mumbles.

John looks up from his book due to hearing him apologising. _Must be his mum._

"That's ok. Now, are you still looking for baby clothes?"

"I haven't told you…Mycroft."

"Mycroft called us this morning saying that you want your old baby clothes, toys and bibs, etc. He didn't say what for but it's you so I won't pry."

"That would be…good. Thank you."

"Oh you're very welcome dear. When do you want them?"

"I can pick them up tomorrow."

"That'll be fine. Ok, see you soon. Will John be coming too?"

"He has to look after – he's busy."

"Well tell him I say hi."

"Yup, will do, bye."

Sherlock hangs up and looks at John knowing he wants to know what's going on.

"Mycroft told my mother that I want my old baby clothes. I don't see why parents keep them but in this case I'm glad she did."

"Does she know about Hamish?"

"No. I suppose Mycroft thinks we should tell her the big news although I haven't told him if you're wondering. He does love to spy on me."

"Don't I know it. Well now we have all the baby stuff you can just relax I guess."

"Oh joy back to doing nothing. Where's your gun?"

"You're joking, right?"

"I'm bored."

"If you haven't noticed you're holding a baby. When Mrs Hudson comes up here to stop you from shooting her wall and finds you…us with a child as well, things won't look good."

"Why? Because you're 'not gay'?"

John scowls at Sherlock then continues,

"Also that we have firearms around a child. Social services will be called in since Mrs Hudson and Mrs Turner are always nattering."

"Yes. Yes I've got the picture. I'm still not use to having a child here too. You can entertain me…and Hamish."

"Ok…how?"

"I like seeing Hamish laugh, it makes me happy. Never repeat what I've just said." He threatens John and John raises his arms in surrender, "Read your book out loud, I think he'll like it."

John begins reading his book, The Hobbit, aloud and Sherlock sits in his chair and sets Hamish on his lap. They listen intently and Hamish leans back against Sherlock. Sherlock immediately holds him thinking he's falling but he's getting himself comfortable so Sherlock lays him across his lap and he settles against Sherlock's chest. John finishes reading a chapter and Hamish is asleep once more on Sherlock.

"He must be tired although his hospital file did say he has insomnia."

"Now he's in a more comfortable and safe environment he will sleep better."

"Yeah. Well it's only 5:00pm and I'm not going to nap. What shall we do with the rest of our day?"

"I think I will 'relax' like you said earlier although I _will_ be shooting the wall if I don't have something to do soon. Here."

Sherlock carefully hands Hamish to John who gives him a look saying 'why?'

"I hold him more than you do."

John smiles nonetheless and holds him affectionately.

"I'll put the TV on." John opens his mouth to speak, "Yes I'll turn the volume down."

Sherlock looks at John smugly and John smiles thinking it weird but normal how they know what each other are thinking although he does live with Sherlock Holmes. They spend the rest of the evening watching TV and making sure Hamish is comfortable while he sleeps.

…

**A/N – C****hapter 4 out now. If you haven't already check out my other stories please do :) xox**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own BBC Sherlock. Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss are the creators.**

…

Chapter 4: Settling In

Mrs Holmes gives Sherlock his old baby stuff; he manages to leave after looking through his baby album and pictures of him and Mycroft in a bath together.

"Yup. Bye."

Sherlock closes the flat door and exhales.

"Well that was horrid."

"What happened?"

"I was made to look through younger photos of me and Mycroft."

"Remind me to ask your mum for those."

"There's no way in seven hells are you going to see those."

"Try me."

Sherlock glares at John who smiles arrogantly at him.

"Who were you saying bye to?"

"My mum insisted of helping to bring them across."

"Why didn't you invite her in?"

"Really John? When she comes in here and finds Hamish it's not that hard to connect the dots."

"Alright. Anyway, what do you have?"

Sherlock goes downstairs to bring up the boxes left by the stairs. He places 3 boxes by the sofa and empties a box marked 'clothes' onto the floor. John picks up a pale blue onesie and smiles to himself.

"What's with that face?" Sherlock commands startling John.

"Oh, er, what?"

"Your face, you were smiling."

John rolls his eyes but answers, "It's funny imagining you in something this small."

John reaches for Hamish who has been playing with a teddy bear Mrs Hudson gave him. He undresses him and puts him in Sherlock's baby onesie. When he is dressed again Hamish looks about at the two men and then starts patting himself. He gurgles happily at his new outfit.

Sherlock and John both smile at Hamish. Sherlock shakes his head, discarding the emotions that are suddenly there and continues looking through the other boxes. John finishes folding the rest of the onesies, tops and trousers and puts them on Sherlock's bed.

The second box is full of dummies, bath toys, bears and shoes. The dummies are distributed between the living room and Sherlock's bedroom, the bath toys go in the bathroom, John surrounds Hamish with the bears and the shoes are left in the box since he can't walk yet.

The third box if full with baby books; some to read to Hamish such as '_The tiger who came to tea' _and the rest are similar to '_How to look after your baby.' _Sherlock picks up the first book on the pile, Peter Pan. He opens the cover and inside is an inscription just legible; William Sherlock Scott Holmes, age 5 and there's a drawing of himself in a pirate hat sailing a boat with a dog sitting behind him. Sherlock sits on the sofa, the book hanging loosely between his fingers. John looks over at Sherlock who has suddenly stilled and sees two emotions covering his face; sadness and happiness.

…

"Come on Redbeard we need to find the treasure."

Sherlock jumps from his bed and runs out of his room holding a treasure map which his dad made him.

_Pass the room of the grumpy monster but do so at your own peril!_

Sherlock tiptoes past Mycroft's room and plants himself against the wall as he passes.

"Good boy." He whispers and Redbeard joins him.

_Next take 5 steps north into the lake. On the lake is a puzzle. Ye must complete it to continue ye quest._

Sherlock looks up and see's the bathroom.

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5."

He opens the door and looks in the bath; a toy octopus sits on a dog biscuit on a toy boat. A note is stuck to the wall above the bath. _Ye must recover the treasure but ye cannot touch the octopus and the boat must stay afloat._ To the left of them is a toy fishing rod which hooks onto a rig on the octopus' head. Sherlock picks up the rod and tries to hook it octopus. His tongue pokes out of his mouth in concentration and within 3 minutes he hooks it and tosses it into the water.

"Come here Redbeard."

Redbeard looks over the bath, using his hind legs to stand.

"Careful." Sherlock whispers as he waits for the biscuit to be retrieved. Redbeard opens his mouth and grabs the biscuit. The boat rocks and tilts into the water slightly but when Redbeard comes back down on all-fours the boat hasn't sunk.

"Yay!" Sherlock shouts.

"Sherlock!" Mycroft yells and storms to the bathroom.

"The monster!" he gasps and crawls through Mycroft's legs. Him and Redbeard run downstairs and stop in the hallway. He looks at the last message on the map.

_Follow the smell and ye will find the treasure._

Sherlock sniffs and smells 3 distinct scents but doesn't know which smell to follow knowing two will be fake. One smells like his mother's perfume, the second smells like biscuits and the third smells like fish. He sighs and turns the map over reading a clue. _Trust your gut instinct._

Sherlock looks up smiling and dashes to the kitchen where he sees a plate full of biscuits in the shapes of treasure chests and pirate hats all decorated with icing and are surrounded with chocolate coins. There is a plate full of dog biscuits too. He walks up to it but he is picked up by a large pirate.

"Not so fast matey. I have to see whether ye passed the test."

"Redbeard, drop."

Redbeard drops the biscuit at their feet.

"I see ye passed the test. Congratulations ye found the treasure."

Sherlock is placed back onto the ground and they all sit around the kitchen table. The large pirate takes off his hat and fills two cups with milk.

"Did you have fun?"

"I loved it dad! I accidentally disturbed the monster but we just survived."

Mr Holmes laughs and gives Sherlock his milk. They eat their biscuits made by Mrs Holmes and Sherlock feeds Redbeard his prize too.

"Can we play again tomorrow?"

"Sorry Sherlock I have to work tomorrow, today was my day off. I can play again in two weeks hopefully."

"Ok." Sherlock says sadly. Mr Holmes picks him up and spins him around causing him to laugh.

"There you go, now you're happy again. We still have the rest of the day to play together."

"Can we watch TV?"

"Sure."

Sherlock quickly eats his last biscuit and drinks his milk. He takes his dad's hand and they walk to the living room.

…

John walks over to Sherlock and places a hand on Sherlock's shoulder.

"Are you ok?"

Sherlock jumps at the contact and closes his eyes nodding. He opens his eyes and closes the book. His face is almost expressionless again but John can see the pain in his eyes that remembering his childhood has brought him.

"You don't have to keep things bottled up."

"It's for the best."

"Your eyes are sad yet there's a faint smile on your lips..."

Knowing John wants an answer he decides to open up briefly.

"My dad would read me this book most nights. It was one of my favourites. Whenever he had a day off work he would make me a pirate map directing me to puzzles throughout the house, once they were completed I could find the treasure. Redbeard, my dog, was always involved and there would always be a reward for him too. Anyway to answer your unasked question, yes I am sad as Redbeard was the closest thing I had to a bestfriend while I was a child and his death destroyed me but playing with him and my Dad...it is one of the few happy memories I have from my childhood."

John can see that Sherlock is still hurting so he sits next to him, closer than usual but he doesn't initiate anything. Sherlock moves closer and rests his head on John's shoulder. He knows that this is becoming a habit but contact with John calms him.

"The more we do to look after Hamish the further into our own childhoods we will go."

"I know…." Sherlock whispers and drifts off.

"My childhood wasn't perfect either. Harry was expelled from numerous schools for being drunk on school premises so we moved a lot meaning I didn't have many friends. My dad left us briefly because she wasn't heterosexual and my mum didn't talk or do much after that. I grew up practically fatherless…" John stops talking as his voice starts shaking. He clears his throat. Sherlock sits up and holds John's hands."

"Well you're not alone now and neither am I."

"You're awfully human since we found Hamish"

"Is that a bad thing?"

"It's weird but it's nice you opening up to me for once."

"Hmmm. So you like that I show my emotions even though I don't want to and that I'm more physical?"

"I just…I like that you trust me. Anyway, we should finish unpacking"

"Ok." They stand up still holding hands then let go as they go about putting stuff away.

"Oh."

Sherlock opens a box full of baby food, milk formula, plastic plates, plastic cutlery and clear plastic beakers. On top is a note. _A month supply of food for your child. Good luck brother dear. – MH_

"What?" John asks.

"Mycroft is sticking his nose into business that does not require him again."

"You know we should thank him."

Sherlock glares at him.

"Ok, I'll thank him."

"Where is Hamish?"

They stare at each other having forgotten about the child which all this is for. They look about the living room to where he last was. Movement comes from under the pile of teddies laid on the floor earlier. They remove some and find the boy wriggling about the soft toys. He looks at them and smiles. Sherlock picks him up and holds him against his chest.

"Ok. We need to always know where he is."

"Deal."

"It's been 2 days since he's eaten or drank anything relatively nutritious."

John picks a bottle of baby food, sweet squash and chicken, out of the box and places the tub of milk powder on the side. He makes up the milk and warms up the food in one of the plastic bowls.

"Could we order takeaway tonight?"

"So you're finally going to start eating?"

Sherlock rolls his eyes but replies, "I don't have a case and although I'm bored out of my skull I won't be taking any for a while. I might as well eat. It gives me something to do."

John smirks and calls their usual Chinese takeout. Sherlock picks up the bowl with the blended food and starts spooning it to Hamish. Hamish's eyes go wide as he a familiar taste enters his mouth. He looks at Sherlock as if he's a stranger.

"I know the last time you ate it was your mother feeding you. I am not your mother but you are under our protection and I will make sure you're fed and that you're warm and that you're safe."

Hamish looks at Sherlock, he's not vacant and it seems what he just said Hamish understood. He opens his mouth and Sherlock spoons in another mouthful of the yellow mush. When the bowl is empty he hands Hamish the beaker with milk and he starts drinking it. Sherlock sits in his chair, still cradling Hamish and picks up one of the '_How to look after your baby.'_ The rest of the evening passes by quickly; they eat their dinner and John joins Sherlock reading the parenting books, they differentiate between who holds Hamish.

John stretches and looks at his watch.

"We should put Hamish to bed."

Sherlock checks his phone, 9:30pm. John puts down his book and holds Hamish close to his chest as he walks to Sherlock's room. He lays Hamish on to bed and wraps a blanket around him before kissing his forehead and exiting the room.

9:40pm

Loud cries echo through the flat and John and Sherlock sit up immediately. They look to each other and then run to Sherlock's room. John keeps a hand on his gun in his back pocket thinking there's an intruder but when they enter the crying stops and Hamish stretches his arms to them.

"Isn't he tired?" Sherlock asks yawning.

"I don't think he likes being left alone."

"Oh." Sherlock yawns again and rubs his eyes.

"Well _you_ are tired so go rest. I can look after him until he goes back to sleep."

Sherlock nods and goes to lie in his bed. He picks up Hamish and hands him to John.

_I'm never tired…why am I tired?_

"John?" Sherlock calls drearily.

"Yes?"

"I think I'm ill…I'm never tired."

"You haven't taken a case in weeks so you're not using your brain as much. Keeping a constant eye on Hamish and settling him into a regular routine means that you are settling into that routine too like an ordinary person."

"But I'm not like ordinary people…" he says quietly.

"Well you haven't slept adequately for a long time so this is your body catching up."

Sherlock just nods and falls to sleep immediately.

"Now I have two children to look after."

John places Hamish on Sherlock and drapes a blanket over them. He looks at them both. _It's funny how similar they are; Hamish could be mistaken as Sherlock's biological son despite his blue eyes._

Sherlock shifts slightly and drapes an arm across Hamish. John smiles adoringly and returns to the living room to put all the books and toys away before he heads to his own bed and surrenders to a serene sleep.

…

**A/N – Thanks for all the lovely reviews :) Next chapter will be uploaded on Friday 8****th**** xox**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own BBC Sherlock. Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss are the creators.**

…

Chapter 5: Freedom

8:30pm

"Boys? There's a package here for you."

"About time." mumbles Sherlock as he leaves the flat.

Sherlock joins Mrs Hudson downstairs, signs the parcel papers and drags the box to the bottom of the stairs.

"John!"

John comes down too standing at the other side of the parcel; they take a side each and carry it into their flat.

"Oh…ok." Mrs Hudson dithers before heading back to her flat.

…

"So what is this?" John asks when they place the package on the floor.

"A cot."

"Oh."

"Why 'oh'?"

"Well he's been sleeping really well with us and changing that pattern may disrupt his sleep"

"I just thought because the majority of children his age sleep in cots we should have one. I didn't think…why didn't I think of that?" Sherlock criticises annoyed thinking he's disappointed John.

"Sherlock, don't worry. It's really good you bought it. The majority of children aren't abused though but we can see how he responds since he had a cot. It's late now anyway."

They build the cot in just under an hour; Sherlock complaining that the instructions are wrong 90% of the time but with his quick brain and John's skill of assembling things it is built in half the time suggested. They move it into Sherlock's room keeping it close by his bed.

John picks up Hamish from Sherlock's bed and lays him in the cot. Hamish stirs at being moved and looks around his new destination. His expression changes from peaceful to fearful and he starts whimpering quietly.

"Why is he doing that? We're still in the room."

"He's slept on us since he's been here, he may not be used to sleeping alone. I'm going to try something so we know more about the circumstances, you must not intervene."

Hamish's outstretched hands and desperate cries cause Sherlock to fidget, clenching and unclenching his fists. As they close the door Hamish goes deadly quiet. They wait 10 seconds and open the door. Hamish has pressed himself into a corner and has covered himself with the blanket. Sherlock picks him up and he sobs so Sherlock removes the blanket and looks at Hamish's tear-stained face. His watery eyes look over Sherlock's face and he buries his face into his neck circling his arms around him too.

"I must say this 'experiment' was rather insightful but can we not do that again if we can help it?"

John nods in answer to Sherlock's question. Sherlock strokes Hamish's curls and rubs small circles on his back, calming him.

"Oh, I've got it!" Sherlock cries filling the silence. "In Hamish's eyes we are like his mother. He had to sleep in a room, obviously a cot, alone. He would beg for his mother to take him into her arms but she couldn't…" Sherlock stops talking as more of Hamish's horrid childhood pieces together.

"I still haven't quite understood the picture…could you continue?"

Sherlock looks up suddenly having forgotten he is in company. Usually, John would roll his eyes when Sherlock just enters his mind palace ignoring the real world but this is not a cynical matter.

"Oh right well Hamish, knowing that his dad would come in any second predictably drunk, would stop crying and hide in a corner covering himself with the blanket hoping to be left alone. When we are holding him and when he can see us he knows he's safe and that his dad isn't going to hurt him."

Sherlock looks over Hamish more closely and finds he is trembling slightly, is sweating more and that he has wet the bed. He informs John of these facts.

"He's bloody traumatised." John whispers.

"These are clear signs of PTSD for a child; he becomes anxious when he is separated from us, this experience with the cot could be classed as re-experiencing the event in which sweating, trembling and bedwetting are common physical symptoms."

"Can I hold him?"

Sherlock hands Hamish to John who kisses his forehead and holds him comfortingly, lightly bouncing him up and down. A few minutes later he is asleep.

9:20pm

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"I…do you want to stay here tonight? You know so Hamish knows he's safe when he wakes."

John debates whether that is the real reason Sherlock thinks he should stay but he doesn't care. He is glad Sherlock can read him like a book and can see that he doesn't want to alone tonight.

"Thanks. I'll, er just go get changed."

John lays Hamish on Sherlock's bed and leaves to change. He quickly washes his face and brushes his teeth before joining Sherlock and Hamish in the bedroom. Sherlock has changed from his formal outfit to a plain t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms. When John enters he leaves to go wash. John settles and smiles at Hamish's peaceful body. He gently slips and arm under Hamish so he can't roll off and he places a pillow at the edge of the bed also. Sherlock walks in and turns off the light, He gets in to bed behind John and moves close to him, spooning him.

"Do you mind?" Sherlock asks wondering whether he has crossed a line.

"You're fine." John reassures. If it were any other guy John would be seriously awkward and most likely respond violently but it is Sherlock.

Sherlock stretches an arm over John first stroking Hamish's face with a finger before he moves his arm back to John and keeps it on his chest. He nestles against John resting his head against on his shoulder.

John likes the feeling of Sherlock against him. It does not feel 'gay' although if anyone were to look at them 'gay' would be the immediate label. He likes feeling safe even though owns a Sig Sauer P226 semi-automatic pistol but lying close to his best-friend and their child gives him happiness and doesn't any veteran deserve that?

From that night on they take turns sleeping with Hamish so he continues to be familiar with both of them. Some nights Hamish will cry or he won't settle so on those nights John will join Sherlock, they'd spoon, Sherlock's hand pressed lightly against his chest and they would all sleep soundly.

A month into the rota Hamish begins trembling and wakes up early crying. Sherlock thinks about the cause. _Fever? _He takes Hamish's temperature. _No. Scared? _Sherlock takes the toddlers pulse; it is faster than normal. He is still sweating a lot so Sherlock takes off Hamish's top but keeps on his vest. _He hasn't been vomiting, restricting himself? _Sherlock frowns and checks Hamish's nappy, empty. _He hasn't been passing waste although he shouldn't be able to control when he goes._ There is intelligence in Hamish, compared to most children his age. He understands what John and Sherlock say to him. He can feed and drink by himself which is expected but he also puts his plates and beaker on a surface when he finished. _Could his mum have taught him this? Anthony lived in his own filth; additional mess from the child would most likely not have bothered him so there is no need for him to do this. Why…?_

"He's replaying the events in his mind or he is having flashbacks. Either way he is visualising he's in his old house and it is causing him pain." John says in a flat voice from the kitchen as he prepares Hamish a bottle and Sherlock and himself a cup of tea. Sherlock looks away from Hamish who is crawling around the flat, to John as he explains what Sherlock would have eventually realised. John continues,

"You supressed your emotions and detached yourself from the world whereas I need to feel the thrill of danger constantly or I will relapse into depression. You don't want to feel whereas I need to. I'm not sure how Hamish will deal with his pain but I recommend we try to stop him from dealing with it like we do."

Sherlock nods in agreement and looks back to Hamish as John brings their drinks over.

"He knows he is safe around us…I don't know what to do…" Sherlock enters his mind palace reading over Hamish's file from the hospital and reliving the night he was found. "Hamish never left his flat and we haven't taken him out either. He may think that he is still trapped. It is a similarity and it may be preventing him from healing."

"Right." John agrees, "We could take him outside now; since its early not many people will be around. At least him waking up at 5am has one benefit."

"Ok."

Sherlock picks up Hamish who has almost finished his milk.

"We're going outside Hamish."

Hamish looks at Sherlock quizzically not quite understanding what he said.

"I'll just show you."

Sherlock puts on his coat and they walk out of the flat and down the stairs to the front door. Hamish has been outside before but never in the daytime. When they open the door light comes flooding in and Hamish presses his face on Sherlock's shoulder. A slight breeze plays across their skin so Sherlock covers Hamish with his coat but only enough so that he can still see.

Hamish turns outwards looking at the buildings and cars surrounding them. He stretches an arm outwards grabbing at the sunlight and when he opens his hand it is empty. He looks to Sherlock and shrugs his shoulders confused.

"You can't catch sunlight Hamish." Sherlock replies amused. Hamish frowns and pulls on Sherlock's coat for him to walk out of the door. Sherlock sits on the steps of the flat and rests Hamish in his lap still covering him with his coat. As people pass his eyes widen and he hides behind the coat.

"They're not going to hurt you." Sherlock whispers into his ear and he peeks his head around the coat. They remain sitting on the steps for an hour as Hamish excitedly looks about giggling as leaves float by on the pavement. His eyebrows knit together as he looks about searching for something. He taps Sherlock and raises his shoulders again.

"What's wrong?"

Hamish stretches his arms wanting to be picked up and Sherlock stands. Hamish keeps looking about and peers over Sherlock's shoulder. He sighs as he sees John standing behind them and he makes the grabbing motion for John to take him. They swap Sherlock handing Hamish to John but Hamish keeps hold of Sherlock's coat tugging it. Sherlock takes off his coat and puts it around Hamish and John. Sherlock snickers at how the coat is the full length of John and John scowls at Sherlock but can't help but smile at how ridiculous he must look.

"I'm only staying out here for another 5 minutes before someone sees me like this." John says.

5 minutes pass and they head back inside. For the rest of the day Hamish plays happily and communicates with them through actions more. Since going out and being given that freedom Sherlock and John can see that a hurdle has been overcome.

…

**A/N –Johnlock intensifies ^.^ Chapter 6 put now :) Chapter 7 will be up on Saturday 23rd. I'm glad you guys like it so far, do check out my other stories :) xox**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own BBC Sherlock. Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss are the creators.**

…

Chapter 6: Silence

Days go by as Sherlock and John look after Hamish but soon their old habits fall back into place. John goes to work while Sherlock takes on small cases from home, of course he whines and complains at the obviousness of these crimes but it's better than nothing.

They agreed to take Hamish outside every morning, watching the sunrise and seeing Hamish laugh with joy as the wind dances around him. Some people would smile at them, others would roll their eyes and some people even stopped walking and commented on how cute and happy their child looked. Understandably John would reply to them so Sherlock didn't say something off-putting or offensive to the kind stranger but as time went on and more compliments were paid Sherlock would say 'Thank you' surprising John but making him proud nonetheless.

It's the evening; John is sitting in his armchair reading with Hamish on his lap while Sherlock lays on the sofa his fingers steepled under his chin.

"It's like we're married." John mumbles unknowingly.

"What?" This remark surprises him and he turns his head to look at John.

"Hmm?"

"You just said it's like we're married."

"Oh, did I? I didn't know I said that aloud." John's cheeks start to go pink and he goes back to reading his book.

"Well you did. Explain."

John sighs at Sherlock's demand and he closes his book putting it on the coffee table.

"Ok, well we're both looking after a child; you stay home while I go to work, we are currently sharing a bed yes it's for Hamish's benefit but even when he is at rest I still join you."

Sherlock toys with the information wondering what John is implying if anything at all.

"Did you…want us to be together?"

John's eyes go wide, his brain supplying him with the response, 'I'm not gay' but he does not speak it, instead he starts asking the questions.

"Would you ever consider us being together – as a couple?"

Sherlock puts his feet down so he's sitting on the sofa.

"The idea does not seem that bad. I am, er…fond of you and the prospect does not repulse me."

"Er…thanks?"

"John you know that I am not good expressing what I feel."

They both sit in an awkward silence, both fidgeting and stealing glances at each other.

"Oh for goodness sake!" Sherlock shouts in annoyance, storms over to John and plants his lips on his firmly. John is taken aback but immediately reciprocates. They separate for a second,

"So are we together?"

"What do you think?"

John smiles into the kiss as Sherlock reclaims his lips. A squeal startles them and they look down at Hamish sandwiched between them. Sherlock moves back and picks up Hamish. Hamish looks at them both and stretches his hands so he's touching both of their lips. He giggles happily.

"If there wasn't a child present-" John covers Hamish's ears and whispers something in Sherlock's ear. Sherlock gulps. He opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. He shakes his head and smirks at John.

"Promise me we'll do that later."

"Oh I promise."

They tilt their heads to kiss again and then an alarm sounds. Sherlock groans in annoyance.

"It's 3pm. Time for Hamish's nap."

Sherlock looks at Hamish, who around this time is always yawning and sees him already asleep. He frowns wondering whether a child should be sleeping this much but he places him in bed next to his favourite teddy and closes the door.

"Is he asleep?" John asks as Sherlock returns to the sofa.

"He was before I even put him in bed, is that normal?"

"I suppose so. If you're worried I'll check his vitals when he wakes."

"Ok, thanks."

As silence falls and tensions builds John asks a question which has been gnawing at him for the last few minutes.

"Sherlock?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you kiss me when you could have just used words?"

"Like I said I'm not good at expressing myself…plus it's something I've always wanted to do."

"Kiss someone?"

"No, kiss you."

John smiles and Sherlock does too. John finishes his book and heads to bed while Sherlock spends the rest of the night in his mind palace sorting out John's room. He joins Hamish and John at 2am, spooning with John like usual and surprisingly falls to sleep soon after.

…

Sherlock wakes up to find John isn't there but sees Hamish still asleep. He frowns confused then gets up to find John.

He walks into the living room and sees John on his laptop.

"Morning." John greets not looking up from the screen.

"Mmm." Sherlock replies ruffling his curls and sits next to John. "What are doing?"

"Researching common diseases children can get."

"You think Hamish has a disease?" Sherlock says worriedly.

"No, but I'm trying to figure out how much his trauma is disallowing him to progress externally."

"Like speech and walking?"

"Yes, partially."

"What's the other part?"

"You've noticed his breathing. It's laboured. "

"I thought he may have a cold or flu but he does not have any other symptoms and his temperature is normal. I tested him while you were at work."

"Good although don't use our son as a lab rat."

Sherlock rolls his eyes.

"I read that the reason he is sleeping a lot is most likely because he's having a growth spurt. Eating a lot could be an indicator of a physical growth spurt whereas sleeping a lot could be a mental growth spurt. I'm not sure why he's not talking or walking yet."

Crying comes from the bedroom and Sherlock goes to comfort Hamish. He grabs a ready-made bottle of milk and microwaves it. He hands it to Hamish who drinks from it thirstily and they return to the sofa.

"Ah. Here we are. '_Most babies take their first steps sometime between 9 and 12 months and are walking well by the time they're 14 or 15 months old. Don't worry if your child takes a little longer, though. Some perfectly normal children don't walk until they're 16 or 17 months old_.'"

"Most children aren't abused. He does crawl and pull himself up to a standing position but he doesn't walk. Not in front of us anyway…" Sherlock trails off, hands Hamish to John and leaves for his room.

"Right." John says as he is abandoned once again as Sherlock goes into his mind palace. "I'll just speak to you." He gives Hamish a quick squeeze and continues researching. "Someone posted that _'At 4 to 6 months, your child starts to babble, combining consonants and vowels (such as "baba" or "yaya"). At about 6 months they can respond to their name. You may hear the first "mama" or "dada" now and then too. From around their first birthday, your toddler may begin to use one or more words and know what they mean. Her first words could well be a variation of "mama" or "dada". By around 15 months, your toddler will probably raise their voice at the end of a question. They may make hand gestures to emphasise what they're saying, such as pointing and waving.'_ You already understand what I say don't you?"

Hamish nods.

"Then how come you won't talk or walk?"

Hamish looks at John and shakes his head pressing himself into John.

"Are you scared? Worried? No-one is going to hurt you."

Hamish holds one of John's fingers with his hand.

"Er…do you want to try?"

Hamish places a finger on his lips.

"Interesting." Sherlock mutters from across the room causing John to jump.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"A few minutes. I know why he's not 'progressing' as you put it. You saw he put his fingers to his lips. That gesture is typical of a parent to a child for them to keep quiet. His mum use to tell him to be quiet so to not bring unnecessary attention to himself. Like you read out earlier at around 6 months he should be 'babbling' and at 12 months they should be fully vocal despite not saying anything coherent. I think because he was advised not to he hasn't spoken, when he's in company that is."

"Does he know too?"

"Yes. He understands us perfectly and that's unexpected of a child his age. He is highly intelligent." A tone of admiration enters Sherlock's voice and Hamish looks at him and he is complimented.

"Now, the reason for not walking I deduced from the bruising when we first found him. Hamish was knocked down by his father whenever he tried to walk, why, because he didn't want him to develop to the stage where he couldn't be controlled. How does walking stop him from being controlled? He was drunk most nights and if Hamish could walk he would soon be able to run therefore he could escape and evade him. If Hamish could only crawl then he could still be hit. Hamish learnt that if stopped walking he wasn't pushed over so he stopped. Is that correct?" Sherlock asks the boy softly. Tears spill from Hamish's eyes and he nods.

"It's ok." Sherlock assures and Hamish nods again.

…

Sherlock stands in the kitchen over 4 saucepans containing different poisons. He has taken on a case rated 7 but he still can't leave Hamish alone. He would ask Mrs Hudson to look after him but she's gone shopping in Cambridge with Mrs Turner so he is limited to conducting his experiments in the kitchen. He has fenced off the kitchen so Hamish can't get in and get harmed.

Hamish looks at the clock and counts on his fingers. He claps his hands twice getting Sherlock's attention and points to the door.

"Yes Hamish it's 4pm. John will be home in 10 seconds."

Just as Sherlock turns back to the stove John enters the flat to find Hamish beaming at him.

"Hello Hamish." He picks up the boy and spins him around. The high-squeal erupting from Hamish causes Sherlock to look over and he studies them both. _John has been promoted at work and his shifts have changed. He was asked out on a, no two, dates but declined them both. Hamish is happier when both of us are around._

"How was work?"

"You already know."

"Yes, but I thought it polite if I asked."

John smiles noting that Sherlock is becoming more courteous.

"Well the promotion means that my salary is up 10% and my shifts have lessened so I can spend more time here."

"Are you happy because of the changes or because woman still find you attractive without you having to flirt with them?"

John looks at Sherlock in dismay then rolls his eyes.

"You may be more human but you are still so oblivious to love. I'm happy of the changes, yes but I'm also happy because I'm with you. I don't need to go on any meaningless dates."

Sherlock is now stunned and he smirks turning back to the pots. He pours the different liquids varying in viscosity and colour into 4 mugs filled with tea and records his findings in his notebook. John removes a barrier so he can enter the kitchen; he picks up one of the mugs thinking it just tea. Sherlock is still buried in his notes and Hamish stares wide-eyed at the situation. John fishes through a cupboard looking for biscuits and Hamish starts clapping his hands to get their attention. Sherlock turns again and looks to wear Hamish is pointing.

"Yes Hamish there's John."

Sherlock turns back around pipetting one of the solutions onto a slide. Hamish, panicking now, stands himself up and attempts walking to the gate but keeps falling his legs unsteady. John takes out a biscuit and dunks it in his tea before opening the gate again and walking to his armchair with the mug. Hamish crawls then stands walking over to John. John raises the mug to his lips and Hamish yells.

"Dada!" His shrill cry fills the flat and both men stare at him.

"He spoke." John whispers amazed.

"He's standing." Sherlock states.

Hamish looks down to see his feet instead of carpet and falls on his bottom as realisation hits him. Sherlock immediately goes to him knowing something caused this sudden advancement. He picks Hamish up looking over him before resting him against his body.

"Hamish, what's wrong?"

Hamish points to John.

"John? What about John?"

Hamish shakes his head and motions drinking.

"His cup?"

Sherlock looks on the kitchen worktop and see's there's only 3 cups.

"Oh God."

He quickly takes the mug off John returning it next to the others.

"John you were just about to drink tabun. It's a nerve agent. Well yes it's a cup of tea but it is laced with poison. The victim on this case was poisoned and he drank it in his morning tea. These 4 toxins are the only substances that can be dissolved in tea and the tea remain unchanged. Basically it is clear, colourless, and tasteless liquid but is extremely toxic. You would have died within minutes of drinking it."

Sherlock walks over to the sofa and sits as he thinks how close he had come to losing John and it would be his fault. John

"I…oh…Jesus."

John rests his head in his hands. He looks up at Hamish.

"You just saved my life."

Hamish nods and smiles.

"Gone back to being silent I see." Sherlock comments.

"I apologise now Hamish."

Sherlock places Hamish on the sofa, pulls John up and kisses him deeply, their bodies close, their tongues entwined and their hands joined. They separate their breathing faster but remain close.

"That was for almost losing you."

Hamish grins at his two happy paters and walks over to them. Sherlock packs up his experiment and they spend the evening reading to Hamish.

…

**A/N – Sorry for late chapters, I have been so busy this holiday. Chapter 7 will be out tomorrow. Thank you all for your patience :) xox**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own BBC Sherlock. Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss are the creators.**

…

Chapter 7: Perseverance

"John?"

"Yes?"

"When we were worried about Hamish's health, did anything show?"

"No. He was all clear, why?"

"What do you think of this?" Sherlock lifts up Hamish's feet and Hamish giggles at Sherlock touches his toes and feet ticklish. John smiles at him and looks back down at his feet.

"It's also on his hands." John looks him over and looks at his face.

"I'd say he's got acrocyanosis. It's very common in children."

"Acrocyanosis?"

"It's where there may be decreased oxygen in the bloodstream. He'll be fine. He's survived everything so far." John picks him up and spins him around causing a high pitches squeal to leave the boy and he giggles again. Sherlock smiles and goes back to working.

2 days pass when Hamish wakes up in the night and starts coughing uncontrollably. Sherlock looks over him to see Hamish's lips are blue. He removes Hamish's pyjamas and vest and looks over his chest, it is also tinged blue. He carries on coughing and blood splatters the corner of his mouth.

"John? John!" Sherlock shakes John trying to rouse him.

"What's wrong?" Hearing Sherlock's panicked voice he wakes up immediately and looks to his side at Hamish.

"It's spread. His body and lips are also blue. Is it the acrocyanosis?"

"No. It's central cyanosis which is really not good."

John takes his pulse and Hamish opens his eyes slightly, stretching his fingers to John's face before closing his eyes and John takes his pulse again, 10 beats per minute.

"He's barely breathing. Call an ambulance!"

John takes off Hamish's clothes and sees a dip on the right side of his chest.

"Shit. A lung has collapsed."

"How?"

"You know when you found him; his medical file said a fractured rib. It was left to heal by itself. Maybe his walking caused it to refracture and I think it's pierced his lung. That would explain the sudden difficulty in breathing and the development of cyanosis."

"The paramedics will be here in 10 minutes."

"Sherlock, that's too long. His other organs can stop working due to lack of oxygen in 5 minutes, mainly his brain. Grab me a pillow."

Sherlock does as he's told and hands John the closest pillow. John holds the pillow against the chest wall.

"This should immobilise the fracture and lessen the pain of each breathe."

"Of course."

_Ok. Ok think. Think of a solution. Hamish will die if you don't. Possibilities: bus – takes 20 minutes, walk – 33 minutes, run – around 18 minutes, taxi – 9 minutes. Got it._

Sherlock picks up his phone and dials a number he rarely uses.

"Mycroft, Zeus."

John can't hear the other end of the conversation but meanwhile changes into day clothes.

"Thank you." Sherlock concludes and hangs up.

"What was that about?" John asks.

"Mycroft's already sent a car; it should be here in a few seconds."

"He knew before you called him?"

"He knows everything…the fatty."

Sherlock quickly dresses and they leave when a car horn sounds outside. They enter the car and before they've completely sat down they're moving.

"What is 'Zeus' code for?"

"In Greek mythology, Rhea secretly gave birth to Zeus. She handed Cronus a stone wrapped in clothes which he swallowed, thinking that it was his son. It doesn't mean anyone is going to eat Hamish but I use it signalling that Hamish is in danger. Also we've kept Hamish a secret from most of our 'friends' so 'Zeus' is appropriate."

"That's clever."

"I know."

Due to many laws being violated they reach the hospital in 5 minutes. Hamish is still breathing but is unconscious in John's arms.

They sprint into the hospital, leaving the car doors open and head to the front desk.

"Our child, he's barely breathing."

Doctors that overhear come running over and place Hamish in a bed immediately. Sherlock and John follow.

"Do you know the cause?" A female doctor approaches them.

"He has pneumothorax which has caused him to develop central cyanosis." The doctor has a stunned expression so John continues.

"I was an Army doctor. John Watson."

"Ok, that makes more sense. I'm Dr Jones, nice to meet you. Well done for the pillow by the way. You should know that we are taking him into surgery now. The treatment for this is –"

"Placing a chest tube within the chest cavity, through a small incision near the armpit, under suction and water seal." Sherlock interrupts.

"And you are?"

"Sherlock Holmes."

"Oh, you're that detective. I like your website."

"Um, thanks." he replies off-guard.

"Back to business. Did he show any signs of pain or shortness of breath?"

"He can handle a lot of pain and mask it. He was breathing heavily when he slept. That explains his recent change in sleep; he's been sleeping more so that he doesn't consciously feel the pain…"

Sherlock focuses again to see Dr Jones and John looking at him weirdly.

"Sorry mental note."

"Right…what did you mean by he can handle a lot of pain?"

"Read his file."

The doctor walks away to collect Hamish's file. She reads it, frowns and nods understandingly.

"The chest tube may need to stay in place for a few days before it can be removed."

"Can we stay here too?" John asks.

"Actually I recommend it. I think he'll recover better if he is around people he knows and trusts given his past."

All of a sudden doctors and nurses rush to the surgical unit, their voices raised and panic clear in their tone. A doctor whispers in Dr Jones' ear and her face drops. She looks at Sherlock and John distraught and joins the other doctors hurriedly applying anti-bacterial gel and latex gloves to her hands.

"Hello? Excuse me?" John tries getting someone's attention but they ignore heading to the problem. They decide to follow but are stopped at the doors.

"Who's hurt?"

"A toddler had a collapsed lung, it's been punctured and he's stopped breathing."

Sherlock looks to John who says to the doctor, "Sorry about this." before grabbing his top and pushing him out of the way. Two security guards approach them and Sherlock talks them out of removing them noting that if they have any quarrels they can contact D. .

Sherlock looks on in the theatre room. A flat line echoes from the monitor and he slides down the opposite wall situating his head on his knees and skilfully controls his breathing. John finds him and sits next to him leaning on him.

"He can't be dead…he can't be." Sherlock almost whispers in disbelief.

Dr Jones looks out the window at them and joins them her face forlorn.

"Do you have anyone you can stay with? Parents perhaps."

"Why?" Sherlock muffles.

"It's best you don't return to the place that holds his belongings; it usually results in the parents making reckless decisions such as suicide, homicide or extensive violence."

Neither Sherlock or John respond. Sherlock looking dazed at the floor while John stands and looks in at Hamish whose body is immobile and tinted blue by deoxygenated blood.

"I'm sorry but he's –"

A beep from the other room causes them all to look in. Surgeons recording the time of death and removing their masks whisk round to the cardiac monitor where the noise came from. The same noise is emitted and the doctors surround the infant. Dr Jones heads back into theatre and is informed of the situation. Before Hamish flat lined he was almost fully treated. A doctor finished placing the special bandage containing petroleum jelly on the wound to create a seal so air can escape the wound but not return and the rib was realigned in order for it to heal properly. His body was just resetting allowing enough oxygen to return so his organs could function. His heart begins to beat.

Sherlock and John continue to look on now with other doctors and nurses watching the event. They witness Hamish's leg twitch and then clench and unclench his fists as he returns to the living.

"He's going to be ok." Dr Jones marvels in mass confusion yet is relived.

John laughs in disbelief and joy while Sherlock looks intently at the boy.

"It's amazing he's alive, to be honest, he shouldn't be not with those injuries at his age. In my 5 years as a paediatric nurse I have never encountered anything like this. He is a fighter."

"Yes he is." Sherlock agrees.

Once it is assured Hamish is safe to be moved he is taken to intensive care where he will remain for 6 weeks with Sherlock and John by his side.

…

**A/N – DOCTOR WHO TONIGHT YAY! (May extend later) I'm at Centre Parcs Monday 25****th**** till Friday 29****th****. Depending when I get back chapter 8 may be out on the 29****th**** or the 30****th****. I wonder whether Hamish will make a full recovery…yes I am that cruel…follow to find out xox**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own BBC Sherlock. Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss are the creators.**

…

Chapter 8: Recovery

Hamish is observed for several days to make sure the collapsed lung re-expands completely and receives oxygen through a mask to ensure that recovery. A week later Hamish is released and the rib will heal correctly they are assured.

A taxi drive later they are carrying Hamish through the front door and they sit on the sofa. Hamish is still drowsy due to the anaesthetic so John envelops him in in Sherlock's bed allowing him to sleep and leaves the door slightly open.

John returns to the living room to find Sherlock already lying on the sofa unexpectedly asleep. John sighs and lifts his head up resting it in his lap. It's been a tiring week and John soon follows into slumber.

_4pm_

John wakes up to find the space beside him empty and a blanket covering his lap. He blinks a few times and is greeted with a cup of tea.

"Thanks." he mutters taking a sip. He looks up to see the detective in his second best dressing gown and casual clothes.

"Not going out then?"

"No."

"It's been a while since we've had a night in, it's nice."

"Is it?"

"You don't get up at 6am every weekday but then again you don't sleep."

John puts down his laptop and looks to Sherlock.

"Move over."

"Why?"

"Just move."

Sherlock sighs and sits up allowing John to sit down. John turns on the TV and they watch 2 episodes of _How I met your mother_ of an omnibus before Sherlock starts fidgeting. John on the other hand is enjoying it thoroughly, he hasn't properly laughed for a while and this nonsense was greatly humourous. Sherlock's constant moving and shifting distracts John from the show and John growls in annoyance.

"Stop…please."

"Stop what?"

"Moving."

"I'm bored John. This is boring."

"Stand."

Sherlock goes to counter his command but stops as John glares at him. HE stands and John stretches his feet.

"Sit."

Sherlock sits and John pulls him down so he is lying on his chest. John becomes engrossed with the show again and Sherlock is still.

_6pm_

"This is nice." Sherlock comments.

"Good."

"Can we do it more?"

"Sure."

As Sherlock settles, listening to John's heart beat steadily; he wraps his arms around John's waist.

"You've been a lot more commanding lately."

"Well you only do what you're told when it's delivered firmly."

"It's your 'Captain' voice."

"Yes it is."

"So does that make you in charge?" Sherlock's face has changed from boredom to serene to playful.

"What are you getting at Sherlock?" John asks standing up, wondering whether Sherlock is conducting another psychological experiment. Sherlock stands too and closes the already small gap between them causing John to step back.

"I am just curious whether you like to control most situations."

"I…it depends." John continues walking backwards as Sherlock walks towards him.

"So say, hypothetically, do you prefer to dominate while you make love or be dominated?"

Not wanting Sherlock to feel like he is at an advantage he repeats, "It depends."

"Then show me."

John stops as he feels a solid mass behind him. Sherlock has him cornered and a smile plays at the corner of his lips.

_What has gotten Sherlock into this state? Who cares, just go with it._

The sexual atmosphere fuelling him on he reiterates, "Where would you like to me show you? On the floor? In my bed? In your bed? Or what about the kitchen table? I know, right here against this wall."

Sherlock steps back as the scenarios are hurled at him causing his head to fill with one word, _John_. As surprise flitters across Sherlock's features John steps forwards causing Sherlock to step back.

"What's wrong? Don't you want me to take you? Or you could take me I'm not fussed. We have all night."

Sherlock unashamedly moans and grabs John's waste pressing their lips together hastily.

"Wait." Sherlock pulls back his cheeks flushed and trousers slightly tight. He heads to his room and looks on Hamish, the only movement from the small form is his chest rhythmically rising and falling. He picks him up gently and the child whines. Sherlock comforts him and places a kiss to his cheek. He opens the flat and goes to Mrs Hudson.

The day they returned home with Hamish, Mrs Hudson commented that they could leave Hamish with her whenever they want. Sherlock was cashing in that favour. A minute later he returns childless and strides straight to John.

"Hamish?"

"With Mrs Hudson."

"Did we just remove our son so we could do it?"

"If you put it that way it makes us seem callous…think of it as protecting his innocence."

"Ok." John easily agrees and pulls the detective into his bedroom. Sherlock slides back on the bed and begins undressing himself as John joins the detective with unclothing. John places kisses on Sherlock's neck earning a moan from his plump lips and John relishes in the sound.

"Yoo-hoo, boys? Hamish wants his favourite teddy?"

John freezes his hand stilling on the waistband of Sherlock's trousers. John curses and rolls them on their sides.

"Anybody in?" Mrs Hudson's voice is closer and they look at each other, half-clothed and begin looking.

"It's…er…" Sherlock clears his throat and starts again, "The bear is on the floor by the sofa, left-hand side."

They hear Mrs Hudson's footsteps drift away and hear her shout, "Got it! Thanks, bye!"

Sherlock and John look at each other and both smile broadly.

"Could you imagine her face if she came in?"

Sherlock stops smiling and sits back on the bed.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm not up for this." Sherlock sighs and rests his head in his hands. John's face becomes vacant and he joins Sherlock on the bed.

"That's fine. We don't have to do this now."

They sit in silence, Sherlock looking puzzled and glancing at John reading him.

"Can I ask something?"

"Anything." Sherlock responds softly.

"What changed your mind?"

Sherlock lies down and John copies his action.

"I was thinking."

"You do overthink things." John teases and a slight smile dances on Sherlock's lips.

"I was thinking about this." He gestures between himself and John. Panic flickers in John's eyes and Sherlock reaches for his hand.

"Don't worry you haven't done anything wrong. I…I think…I don't want to say I think we're going to fast as that is such a typical response partners give to each other. I just…I haven't given myself to anyone physically and emotionally ever. I don't want to disappoint you and well you know the rest."

John opens his arms and Sherlock moves into them.

"You know what I will ask you."

"Yes I do."

"And?"

"I know, I do and I love you too."

John tenses and looks down at Sherlock who doesn't even flinch or try to back-pedal.

"But I…"

"Like you said, I know everything you would say but I also know everything you want to say. I know that you love me and just as I have my insecurities you have yours, mainly being hurt when you have become so attached to that person. I didn't mean to alarm you; I was trying to let you know that your feelings are returned in the simplest way possible."

Sherlock sits up and looks into John's blue-grey eyes.

"I love you John Watson."

He looks away and his cheeks flush as he says the words that can crumble nations, never imagining that they would ever pass his lips. John nods slowly realising the significance of these words especially from Sherlock Holmes.

"I love you too." He answers and gently presses his lips to Sherlock. Sherlock turns and looks at his phone.

"I told Mrs Hudson to look after Hamish for an hour, it's been 55 minutes." Sherlock tells.

"I'll get him then we'll join you here."

"Surely this is inappropriate."

"Put your clothes back on genius!"

"Right." Sherlock mentally kicks himself for saying such a stupid statement. John grins, kisses him quickly before redressing and collecting Hamish.

_7:30pm_

John brings a cheery Hamish clutching a white bear with a red ribbon around its neck into Sherlock's bedroom and hands him to Sherlock who receives him smiling.

Hamish opens the bear's arms wide and gets his two fathers to do the same. He crawls over the duvet and in turn falls into their arms hugging them tightly.

John changes Hamish into his pyjamas and nappy briefly looking over his torso. There is slight bruising around his ribcage and the gauze dressing under his armpit is holding fast. He rests his ear to Hamish's chest making sure his breathing is normal before tucking him under the covers between them as he immediately submits to slumber.

"He's overcome it." Sherlock announces.

"Overcome what?" John asks not understanding Sherlock's unexplained statement.

"He has fully overcome his lack of expression. He laughs, smiles, walks on occasion and most of all he loves us. It's nice knowing we can be successful in helping others positively as well as solving crimes."

Silence surrounds them once more and John asks,

"Do you think he will talk again? We know he can and will if imperative but I want him too willingly."

"There's every possibility he will talk. He's just choosing when."

John nods understanding and strokes Hamish brown curls.

"Last question." John promises and Sherlock hums in acknowledgement. "Earlier you called us partners, was that knowingly or just a noun?"

"Does it matter?" Sherlock responds defensively.

"Not at all." John says wounded and turns over facing the wall. Sherlock groans and sits up stirring Hamish who rolls onto his tummy before entering sleep again.

"I didn't mean to sound like that. I don't know what to call us since every title sounds cliché but we have always been partners so why not stick with that. Basically no I wasn't consciously thinking that but I do see you much more than a friend."

John turns over, placing a hand on Sherlock's cheek and guides his head closer capturing his lips. Seconds feel like years before they unembrace both relaxed.

"Good night John."

"Night Sherlock."

…

**A/N – Early night? They have a child! Chapter 9 will be out on Friday 5****th****. xox**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own BBC Sherlock. Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss are the creators.**

…

Chapter 9: Baby Steps

Sherlock has convinced Hamish to begin to walk if he eats more. Hamish is a very clever boy.

"You are doing marvellously Hamish." Hamish hesitantly steps forward his face scrunched in concentration. His arms are raised ready to hold onto the nearest object if he falls.

"Almost there." Sherlock ushers and Hamish's face relaxes knowing he has almost completed his journey. He stops walking and looks up at his father sudden vertigo hitting him and he stumbles backwards.

"I've got you." Sherlock whispers catching Hamish.

John walks through the front door uttering a greeting as a he removes his coat and slams it shut. Sherlock looks up and frowns.

_Has been sitting in chair for 8 hours, sore shoulder. Almost had a punch up with one of the patients, he was on cocaine. Oh._

"You shouldn't care what people say about me."

John looks across at Sherlock's his features fierce and they soften when he sees his partner and their child.

"I know. How do you…?"

"The way I know most things, I observe."

"I would ask if you want to talk about it but given your current state I'm sure the flat would suffer some damage and given you're suspended for 2 weeks we need to reduce spending."

John looks at Sherlock shocked, ashamed and then upset.

"Can I?"

Sherlock stands up and walks over to John holding him in a tight embrace. John sighs allowing some of the anger to dissipate.

"I missed you." John murmurs and without any trepidation Sherlock answers, "And I you."

Sherlock lifts John's head and presses their lips together softly, lovingly and briefly given Hamish being present.

"We have a surprise for you."

Hamish gurgles excitedly and is helped upright by Sherlock.

"Walk to daddy." Sherlock whispers before letting go of Hamish. Hamish begins awkwardly stepping towards John. He falls forwards catching himself with his hands and immediately keeps trudging on his quest. John looks in awe as the boy finally bypasses another major step from his past. Hamish looks from the floor at John and smiles proudly, John copying the same expression. A couple more steps and Hamish is being whisked in the air by John his mission accomplished.

"Have you been working on this the whole day?"

"Most of the day."

John temporarily laughs and rests Hamish in one arm.

"Were there any complications?"

"Always the medic." Sherlock jokes. "I did take him to the hospital to make sure his ribs were healing correctly and that his leg muscles were developing too. The doctor said that his trauma is still preventing him from developing fully. I said the fact that he is trying to walk shows he wants to move on and is getting over the fear of pursuing this act. He was presented with leg braces that will help him learn to walk faster by keeping his posture and balance perfect. Nothing is perfect and Hamish refused to put them on."

"He had a tantrum?"

"I was so proud." Sherlock beams and John rolls his eyes jokily.

They make 3 bowls of strawberry jelly and ice-cream as a reward for Hamish.

…

"Sherlock? I think it's time."

Sherlock sits up fast and looks to John with an annoyed expression.

"They all know about Hamish. Why do we need to parade him about?"

"They've been texting me constantly asking me details about him. It's only fair."

Sherlock continues to frown then sighs not wanting to argue with John.

"When will they be here?"

"I'll text them to come over in 2 hours." Sherlock hands John his phone then goes to Hamish.

Sherlock's expression relaxes when he's with Hamish and his smile is genuine. John smirks at his phone then chuckles abruptly disturbing Sherlock from his concentration on the toddler.

"What?"

"Just their replies…" John hands his phone to Sherlock.

**Molly Hooper**

_Come to Baker Street in 2 hours. – JW_

_Does Sherlock want another body? – MH_

_No, but we do have a surprise. – JW_

_Is your flat on fire again? – MH_

_No…will you come? No more questions? – JW_

_Sure. – MH_

**Lestrade**

_Come to Baker Street in 2 hours. – JW_

_Is everything ok? – GL_

_We just have news. – JW_

_Are you guys hitched? About time. – GL_

_We're just breaking the news about Hamish. Just be here? – JW_

_Ok. See you later. – GL_

**Mycroft**

_Come to Baker Street in 2 hours. – JW_

_I already know about the child. – MH_

_It would still be nice if you came. Molly, Greg and Mrs Hudson are also coming._

_I'll be there. – MH_

_Thanks. – JW_

"What do you think turned your brother's mind? I know it's either because of Molly or Greg since when I mentioned them he changed his mind."

"My brother hasn't met Molly, I highly doubt Mrs Hudson attending makes him remotely happy and…oh God."

"You think Mycroft 'likes' Greg?"

"He has changed his bathroom routine recently; new hairbrush, new razor, new deodorant and shower gel."

"Let's focus on our own scandal before we start gossiping about your brother."

_2 hours later_

Mrs Hudson comes up first bringing additional snacks and punch for the evening. Next Molly arrives, then Lestrade and then Mycroft fashionably late.

"Couldn't get away from the Diogenes Club brother?"

"I have a very busy schedule, Sherlock. I'm not John; I won't abandon everything just because you ask."

Sherlock and John both scowl at Mycroft. Mrs Hudson breaks the tension asking how everyone is.

"I'm currently staying with my brother. I caught my wife with another man last night…again." Lestrade announces dejectedly.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Molly comforts and even Mycroft attempts to cheer him up. He just imperceptibly changes the conversation but it works effectively.

Everyone has a drink in their hand and the atmosphere soon becomes warm and chatty.

"When are they going?"

Sherlock asks John, fidgeting with his cuffs.

"They've only been here half an hour."

"I want them to go. I want to be alone…with you."

John looks at Sherlock judging whether he is using him to get out of this situation but knows when Sherlock reaches for his hand that he is genuine.

"Oh." Molly breathes as she looks over at John and Sherlock. Everyone's heads turn to them and John feels Sherlock tense as he is scrutinised; his mask reappears and he sits straighter alert and protected.

"Yes, we are together." John says stating the obvious. Smiles creep onto Greg's, Mrs Hudson and Molly's face.

"It's about bloody time!" Mrs Hudson congratulates hugging both of them.

"Are you happy?" Molly asks Sherlock not because she's jealous but because she believes he deserves to be happy.

"Yes." The single word lights up her face and she nods, happy.

"Brother dear, do please wake up your surprise I have a country to look after."

"Is that not the surprise?" Lestrade asks.

Sherlock walks into his room and then leaves cradling a just-woken Hamish.

Molly's mouth opens in dismay as the child clings to Sherlock.

"He's looking so much better."

"Yes." Lestrade agrees.

Hamish soon becomes alert as he looks over the strangers. He buries his face in Sherlock's neck and whimpers.

"They are friends. They won't hurt you."

Hamish peers up his azure eyes assessing the collection of adults. He relaxes as he sees Mrs Hudson knowing her then continues scanning. He stares intensely at Molly and Greg recognition registering in his mind from a time long ago. He looks at Mycroft and presses himself to Sherlock again.

"Regrettably that's my brother. He's…ok." Mycroft sighs and rolls his eyes leaning on his umbrella.

10 minutes pass before Hamish has been held by everyone, even Mycroft. He is currently being rocked by Molly. Sherlock's eyes don't move from Hamish the whole time.

"Sherlock?" Sherlock jumps and looks at John. "He's safe y'know."

"I know."

John furrows his brows confused then smirks as he realises Sherlock's behaviour.

"You are jealous." John states almost gleefully.

"No I'm not. Why would I be jealous?" Sherlock replies instantly.

John continues smirking and Sherlock exhales dramatically.

"Do you really want me to answer?" John warns adoring Sherlock's angst.

Sherlock ignores him instead leaning on him enjoying the contact.

"Do you think Molly reminds him of his mum?" John asks unexpectedly.

Sherlock looks Molly over and then Hamish. _Hamish is relaxed and unworried in Molly's arms. Molly's warm personality is similar of Susanne._

"Quite possibly."

"John?" Molly says and points to his nappy.

"It's your turn." John tells Sherlock.

He picks up Hamish, taking him into the bathroom where he wipes him down and changes his nappy. He hands him to John who blows raspberries on his belly causing the toddler to giggle and squirm as he's tickled. Sherlock heads to the kitchen and makes him milk formula and a ham sandwich. He shakes the bottle making sure everything is mixed and turns to see everyone but John looking at him in shock.

"What?"

"You…you…"

"Yes I know how to sort out a child." Mrs Hudson and Molly give Sherlock that 'mother-admiration' expression.

"You can resume talking." Sherlock urges diverging the attention off him.

His friends stop gawking and conversation starts up again. Once Hamish has finished his milk he yawns and motions to be picked up and put to bed.

"Has he talked yet?" Molly asks.

"Once, although it was a single word." John replies.

Sherlock takes a bite from the sandwich and raises it to Hamish's lips who also takes a bite.

The gathering goes on until dusk when Sherlock picks up his violin and plays classical pieces sending Hamish in and out of sleep as the melody plays like a lullaby.

"Will I be seeing you soon Mycroft?" Greg asks as he leaves the flat handing the elder Holmes his mobile number.

"I should think so." Mycroft answers smiling slightly.

Sherlock begins playing _I Can't Help Falling In Love With You _by_ Elvis Presley_ and Mycroft blushes furiously quickly saying he farewells to the detective inspector and glaring murderously at Sherlock who in turn gets glared at by John who tries his best to keep a poker face.

"I will see you soon Sherlock."

"Hopefully not but we don't all get what we wish for."

Mycroft nods curtly at John and leaves swinging his umbrella.

"You survived." John notes.

"Just." Sherlock answers and turns to face John. He strides over to him and quickly captures his lips, not separating until the need for air is necessary.

"What was that for?"

"Can't I snog my partner?"

"Feel free to at any time." John responds and Sherlock grins.

They lay on the sofa Sherlock straddling John's hips and are disturbed when the building starts to shake. They look at each other; hair tousled, clothes untucked and lips red but panic clear in their eyes.

"Get Hamish." John commands and Sherlock stands but falls when the windows shatter and the glass is blasted in his direction. He stands again and begins to his room when he narrowly avoids brick and plaster collapse from the ceiling and land on the sofa…where John is.

…

**A/N –Slight mystrade ;) Next chapter out on Friday 12****th****. xox**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I don't own BBC Sherlock. Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss are the creators.**

…

Chapter 10: Weaknesses

Sherlock sits up fast on the sofa.

"What's wrong?" John asks looking at him from the kitchen.

Sherlock looks up and finds the ceiling intact. He looks at John whose body is unharmed.

"Thank God you're ok." Sherlock says walking over to John and hugging him tightly.

"Er…Sherlock? Are you sure you're ok? I mean…your hugging me. You never touch anyone."

Sherlock lessens his grip and steps back confused at John's words.

"But we…where is Hamish?"

"Who?" John asks still perplexed by Sherlock.

Sherlock steps back distancing himself from John. He looks about and finds no stuffed toys smothering the floor; he rushes to the cupboards to find them scarce of food like they were before their lives changed.

"Something's wrong." Sherlock mutters and heads into his room shutting the door and placing a chair under the handle just to be safe.

_Does John have amnesia? Unlikely since there is no sign of Hamish or of our relationship and he knows who I am. Is he being controlled? It's a possibility but who would? Think! What happened before this…the accident. The ceiling fell on John and the windows shattered. The explosion. I must be dreaming._

He searches his head trying to work out how to wake from a dream. In his childhood he would have many nightmares about school and he could wake himself up using one simple trick. Since suppressing his emotions nightmares no longer bother him so that fact has become distant.

_How do you know this is a dream?_

In dreams you always have extra fingers. He looks at his hands counting each finger, there were 6 in total

_What do you do when you want to wake up?_

Sherlock pinches his arm and opens his eyes looking up into smoke and ash.

…

Sherlock tries to sit up and hisses as his right leg is held fast by an overturned armchair. _Broken._

He looks to his left and sees a limp hand poking out from a few bricks.

"John?" He croaks coughing as he exhales a lungful of dust. He inhales deeply, aligning his body so he can reach the armchair; he kicks with all his might to rid the armchair off him. He shouts in pain as the furniture pulls on his leg and curses with relief as he is freed. Loud shrieking can be heard and Sherlock looks about the thick black plumes impairing his vision.

"Dada! Daddy!"

_Hamish._

Sherlock stands dizziness causing him to stumble and he hops towards his room bypassing broken crockery, books and chairs. He hears a banging on the door and shouts hoarsely for the toddler to move back. He opens the door having to push hard due to the hinges being bent and finds the toddlers face red and tear-stained. He picks him up and hugs him tightly the boy clinging to him with such ferocity that he is momentarily cut off from air.

"Where's John?" The boy asks his voice quiet. Sherlock would be rejoicing at the fact that his son is talking but now is not the time.

They head back to the living room and Sherlock places Hamish in the one part of the living room that hasn't been desolated. He uses removes plaster and bricks off his partner. John's face becomes visible, then his chest and then finally he is free. Sherlock places his head to John's chest and here's his heart still beating strongly. His temple is bleeding form impact and a couple ribs have broken.

"John?" Sherlock tries shaking him wondering whether the pain may have put him into a coma.

"John!" He says again tapping his face. The area around the sink has flooded and Sherlock fills one of the few intact tumblers will the water and walks back over to John pouring it on his face. John wakes up with a jump and groans as he inhales.

"You have no more than 3 ribs broken, major concussion and about 4 minutes until the flames reach us."

John looks about and sees debris and dirt covering the apartment.

"Hamish?" He questions and sighs when Sherlock points to him by the door.

"Ok. Let's go." Sherlock helps John to stand who swears profoundly as pain pulses through his body with every step he takes. Sherlock picks up Hamish and they look back wondering whether anything could be salvaged but are disappointed. More plaster crumbles away and sirens sound outside, the blue and red lights piercing the veil of smoke.

John grabs Sherlock's coat and scarf, his jacket and a blackened blanket that was on the sofa. He wraps the blanket and scarf around Hamish making sure the scarf covers his mouth and nose. He puts the Belstaff over Sherlock's head and his jacket over his own. John grips Sherlock's hand as they carefully go downstairs. The stairs creak and groan and smoke as fire threatens to consume them. The bottom two steps are alight; John swears and Hamish whimpers. Sherlock removes his coat covering the stairs and they step across it. Sherlock begins to still his breathing laboured and temperature dangerously high as he is now more exposed to the flames. His visions blurs and he sways as conscious threatens to leave him. The front door is open and they can hear an authoritive voice commanding to fetch water.

John looks over and see's Sherlock struggling to move the last few feet and his eyes slowly close his only working leg unable to keep him up. Hamish reaches out to him pulling his hair and Sherlock winces, the pain bringing him back to reality. They continue walking; suffering and exhaustion overwhelming them. They exit the building, the light blinding them, the cooler air is refreshing on their scorched skin and the knowledge that they are alive is unbelievable. Sherlock collapses the moment he gets outside breathing quickly as he tries to get oxygen into his body. John additionally lies down clutching his ribs in pain and keeps Hamish in his arms.

Lestrade comes into view first asking what happened and then about their injuries. Sherlock tries to speak but his mouth being so dehydrated his answer is barely audible. Lestrade thrusts a bottle of water at him and he drinks thankful.

"My right leg is broken…possibly in two places and my wrists are sprained. John is bleeding internally and has concussion…Hamish is fine…I think but do check him over." He manages to pant and lies his head back down on the concrete. 50 seconds later he sits up looking for John, vertigo surrounding him and pulls himself painfully next to him.

"You…?" Sherlock gestures with his hands then cringes as pain jolts through him.

"I'd rather go back to Afghanistan than go through that again!" John jokes then looks worriedly at him. "What's wrong with your hands?"

"I was thrown due to the explosion and landed on my hands spraining them. It's…I'm fine."

"You don't look ok." John states worriedly raising a hand to cup Sherlock's face.

"I inhaled a rather large amount of smoke. I'll be ok you just rest." He takes John's hand in his own and leans down tenderly kissing John. Sherlock leans over John's body and looks at Hamish.

"Are you ok?" He asks softly and Hamish turns his head to Sherlock and nod, "Such a brave boy." He comments and smiles weakly. Hamish smiles too and gently pushes his father to lie down.

"Sleep." He mutters caringly as he watches his father fight for consciousness. Sherlock looks at John who has passed out and lifts his top; there is prominent bruising covering his chest and he frowns. Fog begins to swirl in Sherlock's mind and he black-outs as paramedics come into sight.

…

John stirs in his bed and looks about. No-one. A curtain surrounds him and he reaches for the button hailing a nurse. A doctor in his thirties enters with a clipboard followed by Greg.

"Thank God you're awake." Lestrade sighs taking a chair next to his friend.

The doctor explains his injuries and when he can leave.

"Where's Sherlock?" Is his immediate question although it doesn't surprise the D.I.

The doctor pulls back his curtain and points to a neighbouring bed also encircled with a curtain.

"How is he?" John asks.

"You are all recovering well. You had the most severe injuries and your child is staying with his uncle."

"Hamish is staying with Mycroft?" John asks not believing what he was just told.

"And me." Lestrade adds but regrets it as the doctor and John's head turn to him. He blushes slightly and clears his throat.

"My wife has gone away for a couple days, she says for a first aid course but I'm sure she's sleeping with the plumber again, anyway having children of my own, although they're adults, I offered to help out with Hamish. It's nice looking after an infant again." Greg finishes. John smiles pleased in knowing Hamish is in safe hands.

"Thank you." He says. "Oh, how's Mrs Hudson? Did she get out ok? Is she hurt?" John bombards either male with questions.

"Martha Hudson?" The doctor asks.

"Yes."

"She was here briefly. She had to have some glass removed and had stitches but she left the same day."

"She's staying with her sister." Greg adds.

After a while John asks to be left alone and reflects all that happened. It only gives him a migraine instead of answers and he ups the amount of morphine flowing through him. He hears movement from the bed next to him and a familiar groan of discomfort and annoyance.

"Sherlock?"

"John?"

"I'm to your left."

Sherlock moves his legs over the edge of the bed and pulls back the curtain. His wrists are wrapped in tuibgrip, his leg is casted in modrock bandage and has a nose tube attached to a machine. He removes the tubes and grabs an oxygen mask attached to a tank on a tray next to him.

"Hey." He greets his voice rough. Sherlock goes to stand and he sways unstable.

"Sherlock stay in bed."

"Your bed has enough space for two?"

"Well yeah –"

"Then I'm moving."

John grins at the ridiculousness but he can't stop him and Sherlock knows that. Sherlock hobbles over to him taking the oxygen tank with him.

"They must have known you'd move since they provided you with a tank." John states smiling and Sherlock does too. John shifts over wincing as his body moves and Sherlock plants himself next to John resting to catch his breathe.

"You haven't recovered fully I see."

"Immweldjsifkebaploesn."

"You might want to take off the mask so I can understand you." John smirks.

"I inhaled a vast amount of smoke and the tube keeps the airway from closing due to swelling. It's been over 24 hours so removing the tube shouldn't harm me."

"You must be suffering because you're using it. Are you?"

"Good deduction John." Sherlock mocks and John childishly sticks out his tongue.

"I feel like I'm inhaling fire but it should pass soon."

"I wonder how long you can hold your breath." John trifles as he captures the detective's lips. They pull apart as John's heart-beat increases not wanting to draw attention from any doctors close by.

The male doctor enters again and stops when he sees Sherlock with John but he was warned that would most likely happen.

"It's good to see you're awake and mobile Mr Holmes. We want both of you to stay here for at least another night especially you Dr Watson, oh and Greg Lestrade is outside."

"He can come in." John confirms and the doctor nods before leaving.

"Do you know what happened?" Sherlock immediately asks as Lestrade sits down.

"We are truly baffled." Greg says and Sherlock rolls his eyes.

"I'll start from the beginning. When we found it your flat was on fire we headed down immediately but there were no fire trucks in sight. Some of my division went to the fire department as they hadn't answered any calls including our own and we found all of them unconscious, drugged. Gas canisters were expelling sleeping gas. Then we got neighbours to fill buckets but the water mains had been disconnected for 5 miles. Someone really doesn't like you."

"Who could possibly want me dead? I haven't worked for months."

"I don't think they wanted to kill you. A message appeared today."

Lestrade shows Sherlock various picture; 'The Game Is On' is engraved on the 221B door with a photo underneath. Another image shows the photo close up; it's of Sherlock holding hands with John and carrying Hamish from the burning flat. It is pinned to the door with a small swiss knife and a blood covers the right-hand corner of the photo.

"The game is never over." Sherlock murmurs but instead of joy and excitement radiating from him as it does when he receives a case, he looks sad and also concerned as someone would go this far just to get his attention means that things are going to get worse…much worse and just when his life was becoming normal.

…

**A/N – I'm so sorry I forgot to upload it yesterday! Next chapter out on Friday 19****th****. xox**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I don't own BBC Sherlock. Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss are the creators.**

…

Chapter 11: The Game Is On

Sherlock and John have recovered fully although their injuries took longer to heal; being unable to satisfy each other or do more than kissing they would usually injure themselves or each other given Sherlock was wearing a leg cast but they managed to last the weeks. Hamish has bonded well with Mycroft and his uncle has even begun to like him too! Greg and Mycroft have been spending more time together and after divorcing his wife, who wasn't that bothered, he asked Mycroft on a date and he accepted.

However, the threat on their lives is still imminent. John has taken the week off work on what would be paternity leave juggling patients with Sarah who understood his predicament since she is married with children of her own, so he can work on their case with his partner. When he does go to work Sherlock always calls him twice asking if he's ok or anyone suspicious has come in. John would usually reply no and then Hamish would talk to him too. These calls were the best part of his day. Sherlock never lets Hamish out of his sight; always lying with him while he naps and taking the toddler with him when he goes to the shops or St. Bartholomew's.

Since the fire, words and names only Sherlock know have been sighted all around London including bloodied photos of him with either John or Hamish or both. It is Wednesday morning and 5 bodies have been found rotting by the Thames and all have one similar trait; their livers are removed and the word 'Sherlock' is etched in the sand with blood beneath them. The drained corpses have been arranged as a 5-pointed star.

"Could it be a cannibal?" D. asks trailing Sherlock as he investigates the corpses.

"I hope not since my last ordeal with one almost got myself and John killed." [See story, Floodgates.]

"I remember." Greg's face goes sympathetic and disgusted as images of the bloodbath come to mind. Sherlock's voice drags him from his thoughts.

"I don't think they have been killed for food, other organs would have been taken as well especially the kidney. I think whoever did this are selling organs on the black market. The incision is skilled, most likely made by a scalpel suggesting this person is or was a surgeon, knows his way around the human body and wants to keep it intact, therefore supporting my black market theory."

"So how are we meant to find the dealer?"

"DNA evidence would have been washed away. We need to do a search of males aged 20-50 in this region that are or were surgeons."

"Ok." Lestrade responds walking off to tell the others.

The scene is documented and forensics gets to work on the samples while Sherlock conducts some experiments of his own.

_Reconsider your theory. Yes the incision was made by a practiced hand but why would he need or want to sell them? Surgeons receive £750,000 plus so why sell organs additionally? Extra money? Not needed unless greedy but greed is not the motive._

_The star could be linked to a flag? Country flags with stars: America, Australia, New Zealand, China-This isn't a terrorist act, countries ruled out. Most likely symbolism of star: success, good luck, navigation, light in the darkness, good health, gay and lesbian community, rule of god over the universe, protection against evil, femininity, celestial sky ,faith._

_Not rule of God, not good health, not success, not femininity, not light in the darkness. Gay and lesbian community - I'm going out with John. Why does that matter? Faith, could be an act to God, like a sacrifice? Wishing me good luck with this game?_

Sherlock heads to the Morgue where Molly has started to analyse the victims.

"What have you found?" Sherlock asks his deep baritone voice laced with urgency.

"The victims were coated in a mixture of formaldehyde, methanol, ethanol and other solvents…basically embalming fluid."

"He wanted to preserve the bodies?"

"It looks that way. Also where the liver should be there was a type of oil."

"What type oil?"

"It's found specifically in Jerusalem and legends call it _Holy Oil_. It's said to hold angels but since it's poured inside the bodies I think the killer wanted to keep the soul from leaving the body."

Sherlock frowns and rolls his eyes at the pointlessness of the murders.

"Are you sure?" He asks.

"This is what I've been told. So, do you know who yet?"

"Mmm." Sherlock hums then turns to leave.

_If the oil is called 'holy' then the surgeon could be doing this for a God or in the name of God._

Sherlock leaves St. Bartholomew's and hails a cab to pick up John and Hamish before heading to New Scotland Yard.

"Lestrade."

"Ah Sherlock. I'm glad you're here."

He sights John and Hamish behind and smiles greatly as the boy stretches his arms to him.

"Hello Hamish. How are you?"

"Good." The boy replies and starts laughing as Greg tickles him.

"So, should we work?" John asks Sherlock as they realise that Greg won't be talking to them for a while now Hamish is here.

"Come on."

They begin looking through the files of the victims trying to look for the common denominator.

"John? Notice anything?"

John skims over the files and leans up.

"They were all adopted. Their parents died when they were young."

"And?"

John continues looking over the 5 files.

"They were homosexual and bisexual."

"Meaning?" Sherlock urged since John was doing so well.

"It's for us.

"Correct. Hamish is adopted his parents dead. We are 'dating'. Whoever this killer is, we know he has a type."

Anderson and Donavon walk in to Lestrade's office and sight Greg twirling Hamish in the air while John and Sherlock converse over the data.

"We haven't seen you around here for a while. Pity, we thought you'd gone." Anderson snipes.

Sherlock straightens up glares at him and growls;

"Greg would you mind taking Hamish out of the room. John and Donavon go too."

Anderson looks to Sally who is equally scared having never seen Sherlock responds this much to their taunts.

Sherlock continues glaring at Anderson takes two steps towards him and thrusts him on Greg's desk pinning him by his shoulders and driving his back into the corner of the table.

"Know that I, John and a toddler were almost killed because of this man and I am pretty pissed off. If you want to live I recommend you shut your mouth and don't open in until this is over." Sherlock snarls making Anderson white with fear. He is released from Sherlock's grasp, rubs his shoulders and back before scurrying over to Donavon.

As he exits he observes Greg and John's faces briefly and smirks at their expressions showing shock and amusement.

"Well I think all is done here. There's a new waffle house nearby although I don't see why American food is sold in England. Greg I'll text you later."

Before they leave Sherlock stops them and leans in close to John whispering, "Judging by your still dilated pupils, a clear sign of lust, I guess that my encounter with Anderson turned you on. Mrs Hudson wants to look after Hamish so we'll have the flat to ourselves. You can do whatever you want to me." Sherlock kisses him thoroughly tongue and all in front of Scotland Yard before they leave. John mistakenly turns back as they leave and see's every pair of eyes in the building fixated on them and their mouths agape in disbelief at the sociopath and army doctor. He turns back swiftly and grins.

…

There has been a lack of activity in recent days and this worries Sherlock most of all. The one thing worse than an active criminal is an inactive one. Sherlock would never publicise it but he is troubled; the two people he loves most are in danger because of him. Yes John knows the danger; it is what draws him in but Hamish, who has suffered more than any child should, is now in danger once more.

Sherlock paces up and down the living room while John sits at the table Hamish on his lap watching the toddler colour, well scribble, on paper.

"John?"

"Yes?"

"I'm not working right."

"Either that actually means something or it's just really bad English." Sherlock scowls then smirks at John's playful smile before his face returns serious and anxious.

"I can't…I'm not functioning as well as I do. Yes I haven't been on a case for a while but I can't stop thinking about you and Hamish. When it was just you I was less worried as you can look after yourself and I knew you'd take care of me but Hamish…he's an incredibly smart boy but he can't defend himself. Now there's another weakness on my list they have more strings to pull." Hamish looks up after hearing his name and looks at his quizzical father.

"Daddy?"

"I'm ok Hamish. Do you want a biscuit?" Hamish raises his arms as Sherlock places him on a blanket on the floor and he grins broadly as he is presented with two soft chocolate biscuits and a beaker of warm milk. Like planned he is distracted so Sherlock tugs John into the kitchen.

"Sherlock…" John takes Sherlock's unsteady hands in his own and squeezes them reassuringly. "You know that we _will _get through this. We always do. It may not be easy…hell when is it ever easy but although it may be bloody, we'll survive. We always do."

Sherlock absorbs John's words of encouragement and comfort and nods trying his hardest to believe those words.

"What can I do to help?" John adds as he sees Sherlock still unsure.

"Er…can we…can you…" Although Sherlock's proposition is unfinished John knows what he means. He doesn't care that Sherlock still struggles when suggesting physical contact unless aroused but the fact that he is with the detective full stop is enough joy to last him a lifetime. John releases one of Sherlock's hands and pulls him to the sofa so he is leaning on his chest press closed to him. Hamish looks over and starts to crawl then walk towards them. He begins to climb the sofa and John giggles lifting the boy and placing him with Sherlock. For Sherlock, hugs are one of the best intimate acts between himself and John. He loves John's warmth spreading through him, the steady beat of his heart and the sheer closeness of them. Hamish finishes his milk and falls asleep nestled against Sherlock's chest and an arm draped over him preventing him from falling.

John places a kiss to Sherlock's head as they lay there in peaceful silence. Sherlock readjusts himself so his face rests against John's neck and he closes his eyes welcoming sleep after the busy days he's had. As he stills his phone rings and he curses. John is mostly asleep too and he tries his best not to wake the pair. He looks at it, blocked.

"Hello?"

"You so easily dismissed me from being a woman. Rather sexist aren't you Sherlock?"

"I -"

"I know you're not but then again I didn't know you could be so easily fooled."

Sherlock remains silent so she continues, "Do men cloud your mind that much? Anyway, I'll let you get back to John…every moment with him may be your last. I'll be seeing you soon."

She hangs up and Sherlock slowly lowers the phone from his ear.

…

**A/N – This story and floodgates ****aren't**** linked btw, just promoting it ;). Thank you all for your kind reviews. I probably won't update weekly but from today I will try my very best. xox**


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